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“ i’ll live with you ” 









{Sequel to " The Dorrance Domain ”) 


DORRANCE DOINGS 

A Story 


BY 

CAROLYN WELLS 

AUTHOR OF “PATTY AT HOME,” THE PETER AND POLLY 
STORIES,” ETC. 


ILLUSTRATED BY 

WILLIAM F. STECHER 



>,j ) 


W. A. WILDE COMPANY 

BOSTON CHICAGO 



/ 



UBRARY of CONGRESS 
TwoCofMiis Recdved 

AUG 28 1906 

Cooynirnt Entry 
CLASS^ ^ XXc. No. 
COPY b/ 


Copyright 1906 
By W. a. Wilde Comdany 
All rights reserved 


Dokuance Doings 


TO 

LOUISE PHILLIPS FREEMAN 




9 




















CONTENTS 


CHAPTER PAGE 

I. Plans for the Winter 11 

II. An Invitation to Dorothy 25 

III. Dorothy^s Decision 39 

IV. A Suggestion 54 

V. Flower Folly 68 

VI. Moving Scenes 82 

VII. The New Home 96 

VIII. A Welcome Feast 109 

IX. Dorothy^s Visit 123 

X. A Candy Frolic 138 

XI. Anxious Hearts 151 

XII. A New Project 165 

XIII. Flower Candies 179 

XIV. A Dorrance Success 193 

XV. Jenny Starr 207 

XVI. A Picnic 221 

XVII. The Lady Tramp 236 

XVIII. Quarantined 251 

XIX. A Quick Recovery 265 

XX. White Signals 280 

XXL A Possible Purchaser 295 

XXII. Mr. Lloyd^s News 311 

XXIII. The Panel in the Wall 325 

XXIV. The Statue 340 



ILLUSTRATIONS 


PAGE 

“ I’ll live with you ” Frontispiece i6 

“ Mrs, Faulkner had a little talk with Dorotpiy- 

ALONE ” 44 ' 

“ Stopping here and there — ” 99 

“ Perfectly splendid^ Grandma, — ” 182 /- 

Dorothy sat silently watching the sleeping child” 277 / 



DORRANCE DOINGS 


CHAPTER I 

PLANS FOR THE WINTER 

4 4 tell, there’s one thing certain,” 
Y y said Dorothy, I have any 
voice in the matter, and I fully 
expect to have, we won’t board. We’ll keep 
house.” 

^Wes, but where?” asked the practical 
Lilian. 

house, a house, my kingdom for a 
house!” sang Leicester, and Fairy added: 

wish we could stay here all winter, and 
then I wouldn’t have to go to school. I do 
abomerate school!” 

These were the four Dorrance children, 
and to anyone not already acquainted with 
them an introduction may be necessary. 

Dorothy, the oldest, was in her seven- 
11 


12 


DORRANCE DOINGS 


teenth year, and tlie twins, Lilian and 
Leicester, were over fourteen, while Fairy, 
who was well described by that nickname, 
was twelve. 

They had spent the summer in the Dor- 
rance .Domain, a large hotel, which they 
owned. 

This hotel was on the shore of a beautiful 
lake in the northern part of New Jersey, 
and by taking a few summer boarders the 
Dorrance children had not only paid their 
own expenses through the season, but had 
realized the sum of three hundred dollars as 
a clear profit. 

They were now making plans for the win- 
ter, in which they were being assisted by 
Grandma Dorrance, and Mr. Lloyd, her law- 
yer and man of business. These two older 
people were literally mere assistants, for the 
Dorrance children were a capable quartet, 
and considered themselves quite qualified to 
make their own arrangements. Especially 
since the success of their summer experi- 
ment, they felt justified in deciding upon 
their winter plans for themselves. Grand- 


PLANS FOE THE WINTER 13 

ma Dorrance was a fragile old lady, and the 
children declared that they were now old 
enough to relieve her of all the care and re- 
sponsibility possible. 

^^Well,’’ said Dorothy, in response to 
Fairy ^s remark, ‘‘I’m not sure but that it 
would be a good plan to stay here all winter. 
I’m not afraid of the cold weather, and we 
can easily manage to keep Grannymother 
warm in the sun parlor.” 

“I don’t believe we could keep warm 
here,” objected Lilian. “There’s no fur- 
nace, and the house is only built for summer, 
anyway.” 

“We could put up stoves in some of the 
most exposed rooms we wanted to use,” sug- 
gested Leicester, thoughtfully; “but I don’t 
believe we’d like it much. Dot. We’d be 
shut in lots of days by storms, and perhaps 
starve to death.” 

“And what about school?” put in Lilian. 
“We ought to learn something, I suppose, 
even if we do live in the country.” 

“Perhaps we could get a governess to 
come U13 here and teach us. We wouldn’t 


14 


DORRANCE DOINGS 


have to pay her much besides her board,” 
suggested Dorothy. 

‘^No governess would come up here and 
stay all winter, unless she was a lunatic, and 
we don’t want a lunatic to teach us,” was 
Lilian’s veto to this scheme. 

like to have a lunatic for a teacher,” 
exclaimed Fairy; ‘4t must be awful fun to 
have a crazy teacher, and not know what 
she’s going to do next.” 

‘^My dear children,” said Mr. Lloyd, ‘‘it 
seems to me that it is entirely ouf of the 
question for you to stay here all winter. It 
is too far from civilization to be safe. If 
Mrs. Dorrance or any of you should fall ill, 
you could not easily get a doctor or nurse, 
or even remedies. No, you must not think 
of spending the winter here ; and though I 
know you do not altogether like the idea of 
a boarding-house, I must confess I cannot 
see any other practical plan for you.” 

“That’s the way it seems to me,” said 
Grandma Dorrance in her gentle voice, “and 
perhaps this year, since we are a little more 
easy financially, we may find a boarding- 


PLANS FOR THE WINTER 15 

house that you will like better than Mrs. 
Cooper’s.” 

At this, the four Dorrance children looked 
at each other, and then with one accord they 
expressed their feelings by the celebrated 
Dorrance groan. This performance was a 
forbidden one, and rarely took place of late, 
but it seemed to the four that the occasion 
absolutely demanded it. Grandma Dorrance 
had heard this excruciating sound many 
times before, but to Mr. Lloyd it was a nov- 
elty, aifd it startled that urbane and digni- 
fied gentleman quite but of his usual calm. 

The Dorrance groan, by reason of having 
been much practiced, was a perfectly con- 
certed wail of woe, which began with deep, 
growling tones and suddenly culminated in 
a high-pitched dramatic shriek, expressive 
of utter desperation. 

When the noise suddenly ceased, Mr. 
Lloyd was speechless for the moment, and 
Dorothy seized her opportunity. 

^^To spend the winter in a boarding- 
house,” she said, — and though she spoke 
quietly, there was an expression of determi- 


16 


DOEBANCE DOINGS 


nation in her eye, which Vv^ould have done 
credit to Napoleon himself, — ^^well, we may 
have to spend the winter in a boarding- 
house, it may be the only possible thing for 
us to do, — but all the same, we are not going 
to doit!’’ 

^ ‘ How interesting ! ’ ’ teased Leicester ; 
^‘and what are we going to do, if I may 
ask?” 

^‘We are going to keep house/’ went on 
Dorothy, stoutly. ‘^At least, I am, and the 
rest of you can live with me or not, just as 
you like.” 

‘H’ll live with you,” Fairy cuddled up to 
her sister, ’cause I know you can’t get 
along without my ’sistance.” 

^H’m glad that question is settled,” said 
Leicester. ^^Now it only remains to decide 
wdiat house to keep, and then to go there and 
keep it.” 

^‘1 wish we could keep house, I’m sure,” 
acquiesced Grandma Dorrance. ‘‘But of 
course we couldn’t have a whole house ; we’d 
have to have a flat in Harlem, or some inex- 
pensive part of the city.” 




PLANS FOR THE WINTER 17 

flat!’’ exclaimed Dorothy, in a tone of 
deep disgust, as she looked at the other chil- 
dren. 

‘‘A flat!’’ the three repeated in the same 
tone, making wry faces as they did so. 

‘^A flat is also out of the question,” went 
on Dorothy, addressing herself seriously to 
Mr. Lloyd. ‘^Perhaps you don’t know, Mr. 
Lloyd, that we Dorrances need plenty of 
room, just to live in. To be coo|)ed up in a 
small flat would be only one degree better 
than a boarding-house.” 

^^But my dear Miss Dorothy, your Grand- 
mother’s flnances will not permit of your 
renting a large house in the city.” 

“No, sir, and I don’t mean to,” explained 
Dorothy, very much in earnest. “But I’ve 
been thinking over this matter and it seems 
to me the best thing for us to do would be to 
rent a house, not in New York City, but in 
the suburbs, out toward Westchester, or 
perhaps in New Jersey. Couldn’t we get a 
house in some small country town for about 
the same price that we would pay for a flat 
in the city?” 


18 


DORRANCE DOINGS 


‘^Yes, I think yon conld,” assented Mr. 
Lloyd kindly. ‘^You might get a nice little 
cottage, with all the modern improvements, 
and — ” 

^^No, Mr. Lloyd,” interrupted Dorothy, 
^Hhat’s just what we don^t want. We don’t 
want* a little house, and probably we can’t 
afford modern improvements ; what we want 
is a big, old-fashioned house, — even an old 
tumble-down affair, but big and roomy. As 
a family, we strongly object to cramped 
quarters. That’s why we love the Domain 
so much.” 

‘Mt is so,” said Grandma Dorrance, with 
a little sigh. ^‘The children do seem to re- 
quire plenty of space, whether indoors or 
out, and I dread to think of trying to pen 
them up, either in a flat or a boarding- 
house.” 

^‘Well, of course, there must be such 
houses for rent.” Mr. Lloyd stroked his 
beard thoughtfully. ‘‘But it’s rather a dif- 
flcult matter to And one just when you want 
it. Of course I can consult a real estate 
agent in the city, but there isn’t one chance 


PLANS FOR THE WINTER 19 

in a dozen that he would have such a place 
on his books, at a price which you could af- 
ford to pay. You see, an old dilapidated 
house such as you describe, is not often put 
on the market. The fact that it is for rent, 
is usually announced by a painted board 
sign on the premises.’’ 

‘‘Of course we could get along without 
such excessive dilapidation,” said Leicester, 
“but on the other hand we couldn’t expect to 
rent a regular villa. Won’t you please tell 
us, Mr. Lloyd, exactly how much income we 
are assured of for the coming year?” 

“Yes,” begged Dorothy, “please tell us 
just how we stand in regard to our money 
matters. You see, Mr. Lloyd, we children 
have suddenly grown up. Last year at this 
time we never thought of managing our af- 
fairs, and Grandmother had all the care and 
responsibility of this whole family. But 
since our summer experience at the Domain, 
we feel that we are able to look after our- 
selves and take care of Grandmother, too. 
At any rate, Tve are going to try, and I don’t 
believe the experiment will fail. I am de- 


20 


DORRANCE DOINGS 


termined to have a house, a home of our 
own ; and I am going to conquer any obsta- 
cles that dare to present themselves!” 

always said, Dorothy, that you have 
the true Dorrance grit, and the others are 
not lacking in the same trait. You are very 
like your Grandfather Dorrance. I never 
knew a man of more indomitable pluck, per- 
severance, and courage. And as you have a 
fair share of common-sense, I am pretty 
sure you will succeed in your undertaking.” 

Grandma Dorrance looked at the children 
with an expression of mild acquiescence in 
all that Mr. Lloyd said. Although her late 
husband had been just such a forceful char- 
acter as the lawyer described, Mrs. Dorrance 
herself was of a timid and gentle nature, 
exceedingly delicate and refined, but en- 
tirely incapable of devising or carrying out 
any project that required energy or self- 
confidence. 

The dear old lady was devoted to her 
grandchildren, and during the two years 
after her husband’s death had honestly tried 
to provide for their welfare as nobly as he 


PLANS FOR THE WINTER 21 

had done. But as might have been expected, 
she found herself unable to cope with the 
conditions of their altered circumstances, 
and she felt a grateful sense of relief that 
the children were willing to share her re- 
sponsibilities. 

‘^Tell them, Mr. Lloyd,’’ she said, ^^just 
how we stand in money matters. I am so 
glad that the children are growing old 
enough to help me, and indeed I think that 
they can manage their own interests better 
than I have been able to do it for them.” 

At this speech, the impulsive Fairy flew 
over to where her Grandmother sat and pre- 
cipitated herself into the old lady’s lap. 

Don’t you say anything like that, Gran- 
nymother!” she cried. There isn’t any- 
thing in all the world, that you can’t do bet- 
ter than anybody else in all the world!” 

^^Of course there isn’t,” exclaimed Leices- 
ter. ^^But we are getting old enough to help 
Grandmother, and we are going to do it!” 

Leicester emphasized his remarks by 
banging his clenched flsts down upon the 
table in front of him, whereupon the other 


22 


DORRANCE DOINGS 


three flew to the table, and all pounded with 
their fists, as they exclaimed in chorus, ‘‘We 
are, we are, we ake!’’ 

Those who are already acquainted with 
the Dorrances will remember that they were 
an especially noisy crowd of young people. 
It seemed inevitable to them, when a ques- 
tion was settled or a decision arrived at, to 
emphasize the event by sundry vocal or 
physical demonstrations of loud sound. 
Mrs. Dorrance was so accustomed to this 
trait in her grandchildren that it did not 
disturb her wonted placidity ; hut Mr. Lloyd, 
being unfamiliar with this type of client, 
was startled out of his composure by every 
fresh outbreak. The mischief-loving Dor- 
rances had discovered this, and took delight 
in stirring up the grave gentleman. 

Another peculiarity of the quartet was 
that their boisterousness always ceased as 
suddenly as it began, and the instantaneous 
hush that succeeded a vociferous moment 
proved equally upsetting to the lawyer’s 
equilibrium. 

But as the children waited in almost 


PLANS FOR THE WINTER 23 

breathless silence for him to lay before them 
his statement of the income at their disposal, 
he collected his thoughts and explained to 
them that the following year they could 
depend upon nearly three thousand dollars. 
This included the three hundred dollars that 
the children had netted from their summer 
experiment in the Dorrance Domain. 

‘‘I think,” said Dorothy, ^^that we will 
somehow be able to earn a little money dur- 
ing the winter. I don’t know how, just yet, 
but that is a minor question. I feel it in my 
bones that among us all we can earn enough 
to make that sum up to an even three thou- 
sand. What do you say, all of you?” 

‘‘Of course we can,” declared Lilian, con- 
fidently, and Leicester exclaimed: “I guess 
I can do that much myself. You girls did 
your share, and more too, this summer.” 

“We’ll probberly make it up to six thou- 
sand,” said Fairy, “as I ’spect to earn quite 
a lot myself. I won’t tell you how just yet, 
but I’m most sure I can do it.” 

“I’m glad to see the Dorrance pluck man- 
ifested even in the yoimgest member of the 


24 


DORRANCE DOINGS 


family,” said Mr. Lloyd, ^^and I think we 
may safely consider the sum of three thou- 
sand dollars as our working basis.” 

^‘That is most satisfactory,” announced 
Dorothy, with a gratified wag of her head, 
^‘and I think that with that income we can 
have our home, and also have enough money 
for clothing and such extra expenses as we 
may need.” 


CHAPTER II 


AN INVITATION TO DOROTHY 

T his conversation regarding ways and 
means was taking place on the west 
veranda, the one overlooking the 

lake. 

It was early evening, and though Septem- 
ber was well advanced, the weather was still 
warm enough for one to sit out of doors 
comfortably. 

As Dorothy looked across the beautiful 
lake at the distant hills, above which the 
drifting clouds reflected the last faint tints 
of the fading sunset, she felt a sudden sense 
of homesickness at the thought of leaving 
the lovely place where they had been so 
happy all summer. A certain undefined fear 
crept into her heart that another home 
might not prove so successful as this one 

had been, and the doubts that always accom- 
25 


26 


DORRANCE DOINGS 


pany the thought of a new and strange ex- 
perience began to assail her. 

But resolutely dismissing these ideas, she 
cheerily remarked: ‘‘What has been done 
once, can be done again. WeVe succeeded 
this summer and so we are going to succeed 
this winter. And that alBs there is about 
that!” 

This phrase, which was a favorite with 
the Dorrances, was always repeated by them 
in concert; and the words had scarcely 
passed Dorothy’s lips, before the other three 
took it up in unison : 

“And that’s all there is about that!” 

“Then if the subject is finished, I suppose 
we’re too late to have any voice in the mat- 
ter.” 

This remark was made by Mr. Faulkner, 
who, with his wife, just then came walking 
toward the group on the veranda. 

The Faulkners were the last of the sum- 
mer guests remaining at the Dorrance Do- 
main. They had come first, and they were 
Dorothy’s favorites of all who had been 
there. The liking was mutual, for Mr. and 


AN INVITATION TO DOEOTHY 27 

Mrs. Faulkner thought Dorothy just about 
the dearest girl that ever lived. 

Many long and confidential chats had 
Mrs. Faulkner and Dorothy had during the 
summer, and while the elder lady’s experi- 
ence and good judgment had been of great 
assistance to the girl, Dorothy’s happy na- 
ture and wonderful patience and persever- 
ance had not been without its effect upon her 
friend. 

And so when the Faulkners came toward 
her that evening, Dorothy exclaimed: ‘^In- 
deed you have a voice in the matter. We 
should be more than glad of your opinions 
and advice.” 

‘‘Yes, tell us what to do,” began Fairy, 
who had jumped up and was dancing around 
the newcomers like an agitated butterfiy. 
“You see,” she went on, as she fiuttered 
about, “we want a great big house, oh, an 
awful big one, and we want it in a ’stremely 
dillaperated condition, ’cause we can’t ’ford 
a country villain. Dorothy said so, and 
Dorothy’s going to manage us now. She’s 
going to be our Grannymother, I guess.” 


28 


DORRANCE DOINGS 


^‘Keep still a minute, Fairy,” interrupted 
Dorothy, laughing; “it I’m your grand- 
mother, please give me a chance to speak for 
myself once in a while.” 

“Yes, do,” said Fairy, amiably. “Do, 
Dorothy, tell Mrs. Faulkner all about it, 
and I’m certain sure she can help us a lot.” 

*So, with the assistance of the twins and 
with numerous interruptions by Fairy, Dor- 
othy managed to explain the situation, tell- 
ing of her great desire and determination 
to keep house in their own home somewhere. 
“And I thought,” she concluded, “that per- 
haps you might know of some house that 
would be about right for us.” 

Mrs. Faulkner looked at her husband sig- 
nificantly, and he gave her an answering 
glance. 

“I think,” said Mrs. Faulkner, turning to 
Dorothy, “that before you make any further 
plans, I must tell you of one that has formed 
itself in the minds and hearts of Mr. Faulk- 
ner and myself.” 

There was a note of seriousness in her 
voice that made the children look up in won- 


AN INVITATION TO DOROTHY 29 

der, and even Mr. Lloyd seemed to think 
that what she was about to say required his 
professional attention. 

‘‘During our stay here,’’ the lady went on, 
“both my husband and myself have become 
very strongly attached to Dorothy. She has 
proved herself a brave, noble girl, willing 
to sacrifice herself for others, and allowing 
no obstacle to daunt her in performing her 
duty. We have no childen of our own, and 
in our large home in the city there is ample 
room for a daughter. There is room in our 
hearts, too, and as we already love Dorothy 
very dearly, we wish to offer to adopt her 
for our own child. I know this proposition 
will sound strange to you at first, but I think 
a few moment’s thought will convince you 
that it would be of advantage to all of you. 
Of course — ” 

Mrs. Faulkner could go no further, for 
Fairy, whose eyes had been growing bigger 
moment by moment as the plan was un- 
folded, now sat down on the floor and broke 
forth into one of her most furious crying- 
spells. Fairy’s crying-spells were by no 


30 


DORRANCE DOINGS 


means such affairs as the ordinary child in- 
dulges in. Her tempestuous nature necessi- 
tated a far more magnificent outburst. 

While ear-splitting screams and howls 
rent the air her little body was shaken with 
convulsive sobs, and her arms and legs were 
hysterically waving in all directions until 
she looked like a wind-mill gone mad. 

Mr. Lloyd was thoroughy alarmed at this 
appalling spectacle, but the Dorrance family 
having seen it before were not so much im- 
pressed. Besides, for the moment, they 
were far more interested in what Mrs. 
Faullmer was saying, than in Fairy’s state 
of mind. 

‘‘Baby,” said Leicester “won’t you please 
take that crying-spell of yours, and run 
away in the house to play with it. Go and 
find Tessie, she’ll help you to get the better 
of it. Run along now, hop, hop away!” 

“I wo-o-on’t!” screamed Fairy, between 
her sobs. “And I won’t have my sister Dor- 
othy go away to live with anybody else but 
us. I won ’t, I wo-o-n ’t 1 ” 

By this time, big Kathleen, the cook, ap- 


AN INVITATION TO DOROTHY 31 

peared. She grasped the situation at once, 
and, picking Fairy up in her big, strong 
arms, she carried her away out of sight and 
hearing, whereupon the rest at once re- 
turned to the subject in hand. 

^^It is lovely of you, dear Mrs. Faulkner, 
to have such a kind thought, and to want 
me to live with you,’’ began Dorothy; ^‘but 
I really couldn’t leave my family.” 

^^And your family couldn’t spare you,” 
said Lilian. 

^^No,” declared Leicester, ‘^we just 
couldn’t ! And though we would not dare to 
express our feelings in quite the same way 
that Fairy did, yet I can tell you that our 
sentiments in the matter are the same as 
hers.” 

quite appreciate how you must all feel 
about it at first,” said Mr. Faulkner. ^‘But 
I want you to listen for a few moments, 
while I lay the case before you fairly.” 

When Mr. Faulkner began to speak he 
addressed himself to the Dorrance children, 
but as he finished his sentence he was look- 
ing at Grandma Dorrance and Mr. Lloyd, 


32 


DORRANCE DOINGS 


as if they, after all, were the final court of 
appeal. 

‘‘I am sure you all feel,’’ he went on, 
^Hhat Dorothy’s interests are to be consid- 
ered above everything else, so I’ll speak of 
that phase of the matter first. Dorothy is 
almost seventeen now, and ought to have, if 
possible, all the advantages that can be giv- 
en her in the way of education and social 
position. My wife and I would be only too 
glad to instal her in our own home, and give 
her every possible happiness and comfort 
that money can buy or that loving hearts 
can devise. I thoroughly understand that 
this would mean a great sacrifice on both 
sides. It would be very hard for Mrs. Dor- 
rance and the other children to give up Dor- 
othy, but when they realize what it would 
mean to her in the way of future happiness 
and success, I think they might be willing 
to make the great sacrifice. And on the 
other hand, I know that it would be almost 
equally hard for Dorothy to leave her fam- 
ily, but if she could be made to see that it 
was really her duty to herself, she might be 


AN INVITATION TO DOROTHY 33 

persuaded. As to our own interests in this 
matter, Mrs. Faulkner and I can only say 
that we hope very sincerely that Dorothy 
will come to us as our loving and beloved 
daughter.” 

A hush fell on the little group as Mr. 
Faulkner ceased talking. Dorothy’s eyes 
filled with tears at the affectionate words 
addressed to her, and the loving look which 
accompanied them. 

The twins suddenly saw the justice of the 
thing, and realized that great good fortune 
had come to their sister, and that now it was 
their turn to be brave and urge her to ac- 
cept it. 

think it’s right down splendid,” said 
Leicester, manfully striving to keep down 
the lump in his throat, ‘^and I say. Dot, you 
must go, of course.” 

Lilian, rarely outdone by her brother in 
pluck, tried to say something to the same 
effect, but the words would not come, and 
instead she buried her face in her arms. 

Grandma Dorrance looked very white, 
and a trifle anxious. 


34 


DORRANCE DOINGS 


cannot decide just now,” she said, 
must think about it a little. But I do realize 
what it would mean for our Dorothy to have 
a beautiful home and loving care. I confess 
that I am ambitious for my grandchildren, 
and this is the first opportunity I have had 
of gratifying any ambition for them. I 
thank you sincerely, Mr. Faulkner, for your 
offer, and, though Dorothy must of course 
decide for herself, I hope for her own sake 
she will go with you.” 

Dorothy looked at her grandmother curi- 
ously. In the midst of her own excitement 
and contradictory emotions she found her- 
self wondering at her grandmother’s calm 
acceptance of an arrangement that meant 
the practical separation of the family. 

She knew that her grandmother depended 
on her in many, many ways, and she knew 
that for the old lady to lose her would be 
like losing a much-needed prop. Yet as she 
looked at the sweet, gentle, old face she real- 
ized that her grandmother was consciously 
and voluntarily putting aside her own feel- 
ings in the matter and thinking solely of 


AN INVITATION TO DOROTHY 35 

her granddaughter’s welfare. That it was 
a heart-rending sacrifice, Dorothy knew be- 
yond all doubt, and even as she sat there she 
realized that though the dear old lady lacked 
the energy and force which had character- 
ized Grandfather Dorrance, yet hers was no 
weak nature, and her moral courage and her 
capability of utter and instantaneous self- 
sacrifice betokened a finer spirit than Dor- 
othy had hitherto known. 

The girl suddenly felt that with two such 
noble ancestors she had much to be thankful 
for, and she determined to endeavor afresh 
to develop her own character in a manner 
worthy of them. 

To Mr. Lloyd only the practical side of 
the question presented itself. He was not a 
man of deep sentiment, and besides, he 
thought that in this instance the material 
interests were more important than a senti- 
mental view of the case. 

^Ht seems to me,” he said, ^Hhat this pro- 
posal is most opportune. Miss Dorothy, as 
the oldest daughter, and fast growing to be 
a young woman, is of course the most ex- 


36 


DOKRANCE DOINGS 


pensive member of the family. You must 
pardon my putting this so plainly, but I 
have the financial affairs of the Dorrances 
in my charge, and if Dorothy accepts this 
very advantageous opportunity which has 
come to her, it will naturally leave the rest 
of the family in easier circmnstances. This, 
of course, would not be the leading motive 
for her decision. But I think when she 
realizes what a home in the city with wealthy 
and cultivated people would mean to her, 
she will have no thought of refusing. And 
added to that is the love and protection of 
parents, who, though adopted parents, 
would love her I am sure as if she were their 
own child. Unfortunately Miss Dorothy 
has never known parental love, her own par- 
ents having died when she was a small child, 
and she will, I know, appreciate and recip- 
rocate the affection of these kind friends.” 

By this time Lilian had wiped away her 
tears and was looking at her sister with a 
smile, which, though meant to be a fine imi- 
tation of a happy expression, only succeeded 
in being a forced pretense. 


AN INVITATION TO DOROTHY 37 

course you must go, Dorothy,’’ she 
said; ‘4t will be lovely for you, and we can 
get along quite, quite well without you. 
Yes, quite well.” 

That’s three quites^ Lilian,” remarked 
Leicester, ^^and not one of them is true. We 
wo}i^t get along well at all without you, Dot, 
but you’ve got to go just the same. We’ll 
pull through somehow, and anyway that 
hasn’t anything to do with it. Your chance 
has come, and you’ve got to take it. You 
know, yourself, you just love beautiful 
things and you can have all the books you 
want, and a piano, and flowers and big 
rooms, and gold chopsticks to eat with, and 
a father and mother thrown in, to boot.” 
Leicester broke into a laugh, but it wasn’t a 
very gay one, and he wound up: ^‘Well, it 
doesn’t make any difference, nothing makes 
any difference. You’ve just got to go, and 
that’s all there is about that!” 

‘^Not quite all,” said Dorothy, smiling 
through her tears. ^‘I’m much obliged to 
you all for your opinions and advice, but 
when it comes to the decision, I’m going to 


38 


DORRANCE DOINGS 


decide for myself. And not jnst this min- 
ute, either. If Mrs. Faulkner will give me 
until tomorrow morning to make up my 
mind, I will give her my answer then. But 
I can tell her right now, how much I love 
and appreciate her great kindness, and if I 
go with her I will try to be a true and loving 
daughter to her, and if I do not go she must 
not think me ungrateful.’’ 

‘^Of course not, Dorothy dear,” answered 
Mrs. Faulkner, looking at the girl tenderly. 
‘‘And I don’t want you to decide at once. 
Take your time to think it over, and tomor- 
row morning you and I will have a little 
confab about it, all by ourselves.” 


CHAPTER III 

DOROTHY’S DECISION 

D orothy did not sleep much that 
night. The question on her mind 
was truly a weighty one for a young 
girl to decide, meaning, as it did, a choice 
for life ; indeed, a choice of lives. 

Two paths lay before her: one smooth, 
care-free and luxurious; the other, uncer- 
tain and probably full of self-denials and 
small deprivations. 

A home with the Faulkners looked very 
tempting. Dorothy did love dainty appoint- 
ments, luxurious living, and pretty dresses. 
She fully realized the advantages and bene- 
fits of a life in the city, where she would be 
the petted daughter of a beautiful home. 

Then she turned to the other side of the 
question, and at first it seemed as if duty 
pointed that way. The children needed her, 

— ^but stay, did they really need her? The 
39 


40 


DOERANCE DOINGS 


twins had each other, and Fairy was too 
young to take the parting greatly to heart. 
Grandma needed her, but then, of all con- 
cerned Grandma was the one most anxious 
that she should go. And while this was 
doubtless self-sacrifice on the old lady’s 
part, yet she would have three grandchil- 
dren left so she could not be very lonely. 

Dorothy remembered that Mr. Lloyd had 
seemed to think she ought to go, because it 
would mean that her support would be pro- 
vided for and more of Grandma Dorrance’s 
money would be left to divide among the 
others. 

The more she thought it over, the more 
bewildered she became as to her duty in the 
matter. She had heard the saying, ^‘Duties 
never clash,” and she resolved, if this were 
the case, to decide the matter rightly if it 
took her all night. 

Dorothy’s mind was of the methodical 
and straightforward order, and as she lay 
there in the darkness she argued fairly with 
herself. 

Still she could not see that duty pointed 


DOROTHY’S DECISION 


41 


clearly in either direction. If she went with 
Mrs. Faulkner, she was in no sense desert- 
ing her family, for they did not really need 
her in the household, and financially they 
would be better off without her. 

Then honest Dorothy wondered whether 
she were not deceiving herself by this argu- 
ment, and whether she really wanted so 
much to go with Mrs. Faulkner, that she 
was trying to find excuses for doing so. 

She thought over the delights and pleas- 
ures that would be hers in the Faulkner 
home, and she found to her surprise that 
even more than the beautiful things she 
would possess there, she was attracted by 
the thought of Mrs. Faulkner’s motherly af- 
fection for her. 

Dorothy had been only a little more than 
five years old when her own mother died, and 
she had almost no recollection of either par- 
ent. The craving for mother-love was very 
strong in her heart, and the anticipation of 
that far outweighed the vision of more ma- 
terial things. 

This trend of ideas made her think more 


42 


DORRANCE DOINGS 


about her own mother, and she wondered 
what advice she would have given in the 
matter. 

‘‘But it’s pretty hard, ” thought poor Dor- 
othy, “to imagine the opinions of someone 
I never knew, even if she was my own moth- 
er. Perhaps, as I’m the oldest, she left the 
other children in my charge. At any rate 
she probably thought that I would always 
look after them; but goodness me! they 
don’t need looking after. They’re quite as 
capable of taking care of themselves as I 
am, so I don’t really believe there’s any duty 
in that direction. Of course they’d miss me 
at first, but they’re so light-hearted and 
happy-natured they’d soon get used to it 
and not think anything about it. But I^d 
miss them — 

Like a fiash, Dorothy understood herself 
at last. Her way was entirely clear. She 
had thought about the happiness of her new 
home, she had thought about the welfare of 
those she would leave behind, but not until 
that moment did she realize her own love for 
her family and how utterly impossible it 


DOROTHY’S DECISION 


43 


would be for her to live away from them. 

‘^Why, I couldn’t stand it a week!” she 
said to herself. ‘^The Faulkners are lovely, 
but I just couldn’t live without Less and Lil- 
ian, and the baby, and Grandma. What’s a 
grand piano, and French lessons, and some 
hand-embroidered dresses compared to the 
Dorrances! And as for Mrs. Faulkner’s 
love and affection, it is mothery, but she 
isn't my mother, she isn’t even a Dorrance, 
and the rest of them are. No, sir-ee ! I stay 
with my own people. Not because of duty, 
— I really don’t see any duty in the matter, 
— ^but because I love them, and I want to 
stay with them. And that’s all there is 
about that ; and tomorrow they may all ar- 
gue as much as they choose. I have made up 
my mind.” 

It was entirely characteristic of Dorothy, 
that having reached her conclusion she dis- 
missed the subject from her mind, and im- 
mediately fell into a deep dreamless sleep 
which lasted until morning. 

After breakfast the next day, a family 
conclave was held on the subject. But be- 


44 


DORRANCE DOINGS 


fore it began Mrs. Faulkner bad a little talk 
with Dorothy alone. 

don’t want to urge you against your 
will, my dear child,” she said, ^‘but I’m 
afraid that your extreme conscientiousness 
may give you a distorted opinion of your 
duty. I want you to realize that though in 
this world we ought to be mindful of our 
duty to others, yet we should not forget our 
duty to ourselves. I tell you this because I 
fear that in considering your duty to your 
dear ones, you will overlook the fact that 
you really owe a duty to Dorothy Dorrance. 
Your life is before you, and if, without 
wronging anyone else, you can improve the 
conditions of that life and make it broader, 
happier, and more useful, is it not right that 
you should do so? I feel that I must pre- 
sent this phase of the question to you, be- 
cause I’m quite sure you’ll never think of it 
for yourself. I don’t mean that I want this 
consideration to be your leading motive, for 
it would gratify me far more to have you 
come to me because you love me.” 

‘‘But, Mrs. Faulkner,” said Dorothy, “if 





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DOROTHY’S DECISION 


45 


I go to live with you because I love you, 
wouldn’t that mean that I love you better 
than my own brother and sisters 

^‘Oh no, not better, but differently. How- 
ever, I will take my chances on your affec- 
tion both as to quality and quantity. Just 
come home with me and be my little girl, or 
rather my big girl, and I’ll accept the con- 
sequences whatever they may be.” 

‘^Please don’t think that I don’t appre- 
ciate — 

‘^Now wait a minute, Dorothy. That begin- 
ning sounds as if you meant to refuse me, 
and of course it is your privilege to do so. 
But before you go further, let me say just a 
word or two about what I can give you that 
would be really and truly for your own good, 
and that it seems to me a duty to yourself 
to accept. I am going to speak plainly, but 
it is from one woman to another, for you 
are almost a woman and quite capable of 
realizing the value of social success. Mr. 
Faulkner and myself are blessed with a 
beautiful home and ample means. We 
move in circles of society which would ap- 


46 


DORRANCE DOINGS 


peal to your gentle and refined tastes, and 
which would be extremely congenial to you 
as you grow older and more fitted to enjoy 
them. We would have masters for you in 
music and French, and any other studies 
you care to pursue. You would meet charm- 
ing young people of your own age, and could 
invite them to a home of which you would 
be the life and light. You have many tal- 
ents, Dorothy, and unusual capabilities. It 
seems to me wrong to stunt and dwarf these 
in a narrow sphere of life, when you might 
expand and improve the talents that God 
has given you, and live in an atmosphere 
both delightful and congenial. Don’t think 
I’m recounting these things to bribe or 
tempt you. It is only that I want you thor- 
oughly to understand the intrinsic value of 
what we offer you.” 

Now Dorothy was young, and Dorothy 
was ambitious. She would have been less 
than human, and far less than feminine, if 
she had not been impressed to a certain de- 
gree by what Mrs. Faulkner said. She won- 
dered for a moment if duty did have a voice 


DOROTHY’S DECISION 


47 , 


in the matter and if it pointed toward her- 
self. But before she could respond in any 
way Mr. Lloyd called to them from the ve- 
randa, and they went to join the group there. 

Then the discussion began in earnest, and 
to Dorothy’s surprise all declared them- 
selves in favor of her going to live with the 
Faulkners. 

Yet it was not so surprising after all. 
The Faulkners, of course, pleaded their 
cause with great earnestness. Mr. Lloyd, 
as financial adviser, could see only Doro- 
thy’s good in the project, and strongly 
urged that it be carried out. Grandma Dor- 
rance also thought only of the girl’s advan- 
tage, and, being a worldly-wise old lady, she 
was honestly willing to let Dorothy leave 
her for the sake of her future prosperity. 

Fairy was not allowed to he present, but 
the twins gave their hearty approval to the 
proposed plan. Indeed so unqualified was 
their approval, and so hearty their demon- 
strations, that Dorothy saw through them 
at once. She knew as well as if she had been 
told, that they had discussed the matter by 


48 


DORRANCE DOINGS 


themselves, and that they had determined 
to ignore their own feelings and consider 
only their sister’s welfare. 

As Dorothy listened to their somewhat 
over-emphatic protestations and watched 
the forced smiles on their quivering lips, 
she realized afresh what dear old things they 
were, and how miserably empty any life 
without them would be. 

And so, after all the others had spoken, 
freely and at length, they appealed to Dor- 
othy for her decision. 

don’t know what you will all think of 
me,” she began, and the little smile that hov- 
ered around her mouth, and the light that 
came into her eyes told the twins at once 
that she was not going to leave them. Their 
instant appreciation of this, and the joy 
that flashed into their faces, made Dorothy’s 
heart throb, and she knew that the decision 
she had so firmly made was the only one pos- 
sible. suppose you will be surprised, and 
perhaps you’ll blame me, but much as I love 
the Faulkners I cannot go to live with them. 
It is not that I don’t appreciate their love 


DOROTHY’S DECISION 


49 


and kindness, and it is not that I wouldn’t 
enjoy all the beautiful things they would 
give me, but I can’t leave my own people. I 
know, as Mr. Lloyd says, that if I went away 
there would be more money for the others, 
and that is a good practical argument ; but 
I can make that all right. If I stay with 
the crowd, and I’m going to, I will earn, 
somehow, as much money as they would have 
gained by my absence.” 

^^Stop talking like that. Dot!” cried 
Leicester, with flashing eyes. ^ ^You’re not 
going to leave us, we wouldn’t let you go! 
We didn’t mean a word we said about being 
willing to have you go, only we thought it 
was our duty to give you up. But don’t talk 
such stuff about money. When we have to 
sell one of us to keep the pot boiling, we’re 
going to begin with the littlest.” At this, 
Leicester snatched up Fairy, who had just 
come bounding into the room, and threw her 
over his shoulder, like a peddler’s pack. 

This created a much needed diversion and 
then the debaters all began to talk at once. 

Mr. and Mrs. Faulkner were deeply sorry 


50 


DORRANCE DOINGS 


but not at all indignant, and so sweetly did 
they renounce their anticipated claim on 
Dorothy, that she felt almost as sad as they. 

Mr. Lloyd was frankly disappointed. In 
his mind material considerations were para- 
mount, and he thought it a great mistake to 
allow what he considered the sentimental 
twaddle of a sixteen-year-old girl to stand in 
the way of a brilliant career. 

‘‘You’ll be sorry yet, young lady,” he de- 
clared with a sharp look at her, but Dor- 
othy, who was nearly choked by reason of 
Fairy’s chubby arms around her neck, only 
smiled in the security of her conviction, and 
said: “Oh, I think not, Mr. Lloyd. They 
say, ‘blood is thicker than water,’ and I 
happen just now to have an occasion to 
realize it. Don’t think me ungrateful,” she 
went on, turning to Mr. and Mrs. Faulkner, 
and the tears came to her eyes as she saw 
the disappointment in their faces. 

“Indeed we don’t, Dorothy,” said Mr. 
Faulkner heartily, “and though we wish it 
might have been otherwise, yet I honor you 
for your love and loyalty to your own peo- 


DOROTHY’S DECISION 


51 


pie. Much as I want you, I am willing to 
admit you would have shown less fineness 
of character to desert your own, than to 
cling to them.” 

‘^Not at all,” declared Mrs. Faulkner. 

There are many reasons why Dorothy 
would be absolutely justified in leaving her 
family to come into ours. But the decision 
rests entirely with herself, and since she has 
decided as she has I can only submit, but oh, 
I am so sorry!” 

She held out her arms as she spoke, and, 
disentangling herself from Fairy, Dorothy 
ran to her good friend. 

^‘Dear Mrs. Faulkner,” she said, am 
sorry, too, but though I love you, I love my 
own family more, and I must stay with 
them.” 

Hooray for Dorothy!” cried Leicester, 
and in a moment he and Lilian and Fairy 
had joined hands and were dancing around 
Mrs. Faulkner and Dorothy, who were 
forced to smile through their tears at the 
noisy salute. 

There was much further discussion and 


52 


DORRANCE DOINGS 


argument, but Dorotliy was not to be moved 
one iota, and at last her decision was ac- 
cepted as final. 

^‘Kathleen,” she said later, as she met the 
big-bearted Irish cook in the dining-room, 
‘^Kathleen, Mrs. Faulkner has offered to 
adopt me, and take me to live with her as 
her own daughter.’’ 

^‘Ah, the pore leddy!” 

‘‘Why, Kathleen, why are you so sorry 
for her?” 

“Och, if she wants ye so much as all that, 
she’ll be sore disappointed whin ye don’t 
go.” 

“How do you know I won’t go, Kathleen? 
She’s very rich and would give me all sorts 
of beautiful things.” 

“Ha, ha! ’Tis sure a good joke ye’re 
makin’. Miss Dorothy, but ye can’t fool me. ” 

“But,” persisted Dorothy, “why are you 
so sure I won’t go?” 

“Arrah, it’s foolin’ ye shtill are! But 
you can’t fool ould Kathleen. I knows ye. 
Miss Dorothy, for the thrue-hearted little 
leddy ye are, and ye’d no more desert yer 


DOROTHY’S DECISION 


53 


own flesh and blood, than ye’d cut off your 
right hand. Why, ye cuddent live without 
them noisy twins, and that roarin’ whirl- 
wind of a baby. To say nothin’ of your 
leddy grandmother.” 

‘^You’re right, Kathleen, I couldn’t live 
without them,” said Dorothy, a little wist- 
fully. 

^‘Nor they without you,” added Kathleen. 

^^Ko,” repeated Dorothy, and now her 
face broke into a happy smile, ^^nor they 
without 


CHAPTER lY 

A SUGGESTION 

44\\7 ELL/’ Dorothy remarked, that 
y\ same afternoon, since it is 
now decided where I am not to 
live, the next thing to find out is where is 
to be my abode for the winter.” 

’spose,” said Fairy, wagging her gold- 
en head wisely, “we’ll all come back here to 
live next summer, so what we want now is 
just a place to abode in for the winter.” 

“You’ve struck it nearer right than usual, 
this time. Fairy,” commended Leicester. 
“Do you suppose, Mr. Lloyd, you can find a 
house for us of the sort we want, in time for 
us to get into it and get settled, before it’s 
time to shut it up and come back here 1 ’ ’ 

“I think it’s doubtful, my young friend,” 
replied Mr. Lloyd, “for you Dorrances are 
so very particular what kind of a house you 
have.” 


64 


A SUGGESTION 


55 


The lawyer’s manner in general, had been 
a shade less affable since Dorothy’s refusal 
to accept what he considered a golden op- 
portunity. 

But Mrs. Faulkner held not the slightest 
resentment against her yomig friend, and 
after having given up the hope of having 
her permanently in their home she had in- 
vited Dorothy to make her a long visit later 
in the winter, and this the girl had gladly 
consented to do. 

‘‘What are the principal peculiarities a 
house must possess to be acceptable to you 
and this now famous family of Dorrances, 
Dorothy?” inquired Mr. Faulkner, who was 
sitting on the veranda railing, smoking an 
after-dinner cigar. “I suppose you want a 
little rose-embowered cottage beside a little 
rill.” 

“I don’t care how little the rill is, Mr. 
Faulkner,” said Dorothy, “but a little cot- 
tage is not what we’re after, at all. We 
want a great big old house, — ” 

“A baronial castle tumbling to pieces,” 
put in Leicester. 


56 


DORRANCE DOINGS 


a ruined abbey or monastery,’’ said 

Lilian. 

’Most anything would do,” declared 
Fairy, ‘^if it’s only big enough and tumbly- 
to-pieces enough.” 

‘‘Why!” exclaimed Mrs. Faulkner, “if 
that’s really the sort of thing you’re after, 
perhaps I can help you find it. Don’t you 
remember that house in Sheffield, James'? 
Why wouldn’t that be just the thing?” 

“What, the Flower Folly? But that is 
so big, my dear, and in a shocking state of 
repair.” 

“Just the thing!” exclaimed two or three 
Dorrances at once. ‘ ‘ Tell us more about it. ’ ’ 

“Well,” began Mrs. Faulkner, “my sis- 
ter, Mrs. Pettit, lives in Sheffield, which is a 
small town in New Jersey.” 

“Why, we’re in New Jersey now,” said 
Leicester. 

“Yes, but this is farther south. Indeed, 
it is not far from New York City. But I 
will tell you about the house. I have seen 
it many times when out driving with my sis- 
ter. It is on a high hill on the outskirts of 


A SUGGESTION 


57 


the town, and it has not been lived in for 
years. It was built by a man named Flower, 
but it was planned on such a large scale that 
his money gave out before he finished it. 
Also, I believe, his wife died and he lost in- 
terest in the whole affair and went abroad, 
leaving the place unfinished. He then died 
himself, and owing to long litigation of his 
estate the house remained unfinished and 
unoccupied. I am quite sure that if you de- 
cide on it you could have it at a low rental, 
but it might not be at all what you want.” 

‘‘At any rate,” said Mr. Faulkner, and 
there was a twinkle in his eye, “I advise you 
to see it before you decide.” 

“Why?” demanded straightforward Lil- 
ian. 

“Because it is a sight to behold,” answered 
Mr. Faulkner. “I will not deceive you; it 
is a great, bare, forlorn-looking pile, set up 
in the middle of a great, bare, forlorn lot, 
and is surrounded mostly with unkempt bri- 
ars and bushes.” 

“Sounds most attractive!” cried Leices- 
ter. “I engage to tackle the briery foes. 


58 


DORRANCE DOINGS 


and clean them all out in short order. I’ll 
be glad to have a place where there’s some- 
thing a boy can do. This Dorrance Domain 
was in altogether too spick and span order 
for me to find employment, but the Flower 
Folly seems to be just my size. Tell us 
more.” 

‘‘There isn’t much more to tell, ” said Mrs. 
Faulkner, laughing at Leicester’s enthusi- 
asm. “If you could make the place habit- 
able, it really might be just what you want.” 

“I’m sure of it!” exclaimed Dorothy. 
“Now tell us about the place and the people. 
Is Sheffield a nice place? Are the people 
nice? Is there a good school there?” 

“Are there any little girls there? Could 
I keep a dog? And rabbits? And my kit- 
ten? And my canary? And Tessie? And 
Kathleen—” 

Fairy paused merely for want of breath, 
and Lilian took it up. 

“Is it far from the village? Would we 
have to keep a horse? Is there a barn? 
How soon could we start?” 

Mrs. Faulkner was helpless under this av- 


A SUGGESTION 


59 


alanche of questions, but as soon as she could 
find opportunity she answered a few of 
them. 

‘‘Yes, Sheffield is a charming place and 
the people are delightful. My sister has a 
beautiful home there, and would be glad to 
welcome you as fellow townspeople. If you 
wish, I can write and ask her about the 
house. But truly, Dorothy, I warn you it 
is not in any way attractive in appearance. 
It is rather of a gloomy and forbidding as- 
pect, and I’m not sure that even you could 
succeed in making it cheerful and bright, 
inside or out.” 

“But it seems to me,” said Dorothy, who 
had assumed her practical, common-sense 
air, “that it is our only chance. Mr. Lloyd 
doesn’t know of any house, and thinks it 
doubtful if he could find any within our 
means. I don’t know of any other way even 
to try to find one, and anyway it would do 
no harm for you to write to Mrs. Pettit, if 
you will, and see what she says about it.” 

Mr. Lloyd looked a little bit displeased. 
His expression seemed to denote disapproval 


60 


DORRANCE DOINGS 


of this ridiculous scheme, and yet, betok- 
ened a relief that he was being allowed to 
wash his hands of the whole affair. As he 
afterward confided to Grandma Dorrance, 
he was quite willing to look after her finan- 
cial affairs as he always had done, but he 
could not undertake the responsibility of 
advising her harum-scarum grandchildren. 
And Mrs. Dorrance had replied in her mild 
dignified way that she was quite willing to 
let the children make their own plans, and 
she fully believed they would succeed in 
whatever they undertook. 

So Mrs. Faullmer wrote to her sister and 
a few days later an answer came. 

By this time Mr. Lloyd had gone back to 
the city, and consequently the group that 
gathered to hear the disclosures of the letter 
was all of one mind, wholly in sympathy 
with the new plan. 

^^My dear Sister,’’ the letter ran, unless 
you have a family of lunatics out there in the 
hills, I cannot imagine what they can want 
of the Flower Folly. Surely no sane people 
could think of living in it for it is large 


A SUGGESTION 


61 


enough for the Eussian army. It is also un- 
desirable from every other point of view. 
A dark and gloomy old house, mifinished, 
and yet almost in ruins, it seems to me ut- 
terly unattractive. There, now that I have 
relieved my mind by honestly setting forth 
its many disadvantages, I will also add that 
it has a beautiful location. On the top of 
one of the prettiest hills I ever saw, it com- 
mands a beautiful view on all sides. Also, 
the house, so far as it is finished, is strong 
and well built, and in some of the rooms I 
think your lunatics could manage to keep 
warm. There are many large open fire- 
places, and curious winding stairs, with dear 
little oriel windows. I inquired of Mr. 
Brown, the agent, about renting it, and this 
is what he told me: Your people, if they 
come with a recommendation from that cel- 
ebrated husband of yours, can have the place 
for twenty dollars a month, subject to this 
condition : if it should be sold, and it is in 
the market for sale, the occupants must 
move out at a week’s notice. I also inquired, 
as you asked me to do, whether the lunatics 


62 


DORRANCE DOINGS 


would be allowed to carry out any crazy 
ideas they might have, by way of improving 
the premises. Mr. Brown said they could 
have absolute liberty in that respect, and if 
they chose to carry the well up into the 
tower, or bring down the skylight to cover 
their cucumber patch, he hadn’t the slight- 
est objection. His only stipulation was, that 
if he should sell the house your people must 
promise to disappear inside of a week. Per- 
sonally, I hope they will conclude to come, 
for I’m fond of lunatics, and I will do my 
best to make it pleasant for them. We live 
a half mile distant, but they will have no 
nearer neighbors, and if they are your 
friends I shall try very hard to make them 
mine.” 

‘‘She’s very nice,” declared Dorothy, as 
Mrs. Faulkner finished reading. “I don’t a 
bit mind her calling us lunatics, for I’ve al- 
ways had a slight suspicion that we are. As 
to that house, what do you all say?” and 
with a confident smile, Dorothy turned to 
the others. 

“Great!” cried Leicester. “All right!” 


A SUGGESTION 


63 


exclaimed Lilian, and Fairy turned one of 
lier best somersaults by way of expressing 
lier opinion. 

^^Tben I say we consider it settled,’’ de- 
creed Dorothy, ^^and we’ll go right to work 
getting ready to move in. I do like to do 
things. There is no fun discussing, and 
wondering and doubting, but when it comes 
to doing, that’s worth while, and life is 
worth living. What do you think, Granny- 
mother? Poor little lady, she doesn’t have 
any voice of her own. Her four obstreper- 
ous grannychildren just ride right over her, 
without so much as by your leave.” 

Dorothy had seated herself on the arm of 
Mrs. Dorrance’s chair and was gently pat- 
ting the old lady’s soft cheek. 

^H’ll have to think it over, Dorothy dear. 
My old brain isn’t quite so active as yours, 
and I can’t arrive at conclusions so rapidly. 
But if the house pleases you children it will 
please me, and, as you say, there doesn’t 
seem to be any other in view, and I can’t 
bear to look forward to another winter in a 
boarding-house.” 


64 


DORRANCE DOINGS 


‘‘A boarding-house!” screamed the four, 
in concert, and then once more the Dorrance 
groan rent the air, and almost caused the 
Dorrance Domain to totter on its founda- 
tions. 

Children!” cried Mrs. Dorrance, her 
hands over her ears, ‘^you promised you 
wouldn’t do that any more.” 

^‘We only do it, Grandmother dear, when 
you mention a boarding-house,” said Leices- 
ter, in exaggeratedly polite tones, and mak- 
ing an elaborate dancing-school bow. 

After further consultation it was ar- 
ranged that, as the Faulkners were going 
home the next day, Dorothy should go down 
with them, and they would stop at Sheffield 
and look at the house in question. 

By general consent the whole decision 
seemed to be put into Dorothy’s hands, and 
though she was sorry to go without the 
others it really seemed the only thing to do. 
They could not decide to rent the house wdth- 
out having seen it at all, and of course if 
Dorothy thought it all right the others were 
sure to acquiesce. 


A SUGGESTION 


65 


So it was planned that Dorothy should go 
next day with the Faulkners, and though 
Mr. Faulkner would go on to the city, Mrs. 
Faulkner and Dorothy were to stop at Shef- 
field and go to see Mrs. Pettit, who would 
doubtless drive them over to view the house. 
Then if Dorothy decided it would do for 
them, she would engage board for the whole 
family at the little Sheffield inn, and there 
they would all stay until the house was made 
habitable. 

‘‘And won’t you come back here, at all. 
Dot?” inquired Leicester. 

“I don’t know,” said Dorothy, thought- 
fully. “Yes, I think I shall, for after I’ve 
seen the house. I’ll Imow so much better 
what furniture and things we want to take 
from here. We can take as much as we like 
from the Domain; it’s all ours, isn’t it, 
Grandma?” 

“Yes, child, certainly, it’s all ours, but re- 
member you can’t take it down by the car- 
load. Moving is very expensive.” 

“Not so expensive as buying new things,” 
said Dorothy, “and I’ll tell you what. Twins, 


66 


DORRANCE DOINGS 


we’ll take that three hundred dollars that 
we cleared this summer, for settling our new 
home : moving and any repairs that are nec- 
essary, and buying what new things we have 
to, and so on.” 

‘^Good idea!” cried Lilian; ‘4et’s begin to 
make lists now.” 

Lilian’s great delight was making lists, 
and the others enjoyed it as well, so many 
sheets of paper were soon covered with the 
enumeration of the household goods they 
wanted to take with them. 

These lists were subject to revision, which 
was fortunate, as Fairy’s included several 
boats, and the grand piano, and the roof gar- 
den. But again, as no one could possibly 
read Fairy’s list, it made little difference 
what was on it. 

But it did seem fortunate that, when mov- 
ing into a new home, the Dorrances should 
have the whole hotel full of household fur- 
niture to select from. 

Each picked out a favorite set of bed- 
room furniture, they chose the prettiest 
of the dining-room appointments, and se- 


A SUGGESTION 


67 


lected a goodly stock of housekeeping linens. 

Mrs. Faulkner entered enthusiastically 
into the spirit of the thing and her help was 
most acceptable, for Grandma Dorrance was 
bewildered by the confusion, and unable to 
be of practical assistance. And Dorothy, 
though as usual not lacking in self-confi- 
dence, was glad to refer many domestic 
problems to Mrs. Faulkner’s more mature 
experience. 


CHAPTER V 


FLOWER FOLLY 

I T was about noon when Dorothy and Mrs. 
Faulkner reached Sheffield the next 
day, and they found Mrs. Pettit’s car- 
riage waiting for them at the railroad sta- 
tion. 

As they drove through the streets of the 
village, Dorothy was delighted with the gen- 
eral character of the place. Apparently it 
was not a busy, hustling little town, but 
rather an old sleepy sort of place, whose in- 
habitants paid little heed to modem prog- 
ress. 

The trees were especially beautiful, and 
elms and maples waved their bright-colored 
autumn leaves far out over the road. 

Except for a few modern cottages, the 
houses were old-fashioned, comfortable- 
looking homes, surroimded by well-kept 
lawns. 


68 


FLOWER FOLLY 


69 


Dorothy quick eyes noted a substantial 
looking public school, and a more ornate 
public library. 

As they drove into Mrs. Pettit’s grounds, 
that lady came running out on the veranda 
to welcome them. 

She was a vivacious, impetuous little 
woman, and seemed to lack entirely Mrs. 
Faulkner’s calm repose of manner. 

‘ ‘ I ’m so glad to see you, ’ ’ she cried ; ^ ^ jump 
out and come right in. How are you, Grace ? 
And is this Dorothy, the Dorothy I’ve heard 
so much about, and who, I hope, will soon 
be my neighbor ? Though why in the world 
you want to live in that great barn of a 
Folly is more than I can understand. Now 
come in, and see my own little nest. You 
could put my whole house in one of the 
rooms of Flower Folly, and then have space 
to walk around it. But there’s room here 
for me and my brood, as my brood includes 
only two ducklings. ’ ’ 

As Mrs. Pettit talked, she lead the way 
into her house, which was by no means so 
small as her words implied. Instead, it was 


70 


DORRANCE DOINGS 


a fair sized and most attractive looking 
home, and the hostess began, herself, to take 
of Dorothy’s jacket, with an air that left no 
doubt of a hospitable welcome. 

Luncheon was a very pleasant affair, and 
though Mrs. Pettit chattered most of the 
time, the two guests managed to ask a few 
questions concerning the business in hand. 

^^Yes,” said Mrs. Pettit, in response to 
some of these, we ’ll drive over there this 
afternoon. I know you’re crazy to see it, 
and I can hardly blame you but mind now, 
Miss Dorothy, you mustn’t get your ideas 
raised too high. It was originally intended 
to be a palatial residence, but so many parts 
of it are unfinished that it is a mere wreck 
of glory.” 

^‘That sounds pleasing,” said Dorothy, 
think I’ll enjoy living in a wreck of 
glory.” 

“You look as if you’d enjoy living almost 
anywhere,” said Mrs. Pettit, with a glance 
at Dorothy’s bright face and smiling eyes. 

“Now,” she declared, as they finished 
luncheon, “w^e must get right off, for I know 


FLOWER FOLLY 


71 


you’re anxious to start, and I, too, am in a 
hurry to hear your verdict.” 

Dorothy had already discovered that Mrs. 
Pettit was always in a hurry, or at least 
she always had a hustling, excited air which 
gave that impression. 

She declared frankly that Dorothy had 
won her heart at first sight. 

have no daughter of my own,” she said, 
^^and my two big boys won’t allow me to 
coddle or fuss over them. Boys are so dif- 
ferent from girls, you can’t fix up pretty 
rooms for them, or give them parties, or de- 
vise lovely clothes for them. But my boys 
are perfect darlings. Ted is seventeen and 
Phil is nineteen, and you must promise to 
like them or I shan’t let you live in Sheffield 
after all.” 

Dorothy laughingly promised, and by that 
time they had reached the foot of the hill on 
the summit of which stood the Flower Folly. 

To Dorothy the first glimpse of her hoped- 
for home seemed at once inviting and repel- 
lant. 

Set in the midst of a thicket of straggling 


72 


DORRANCE DOINGS 


vines and bushes, and surrounded by many 
great trees, the house rose, a dark, gloomy- 
looking pile. 

But the fact that the trees and bushes 
were of glowing tints of scarlet and orange 
greatly modified the gloom, and gave the 
place a suggestion of the palace of the Sleep- 
ing Beauty in the wood. 

As they drew nearer, Dorothy saw a large 
house, which, as she afterward remarked, 
was the very squarest thing she ever saw. 
There was an entrance on each of the four 
sides, and these portals boasted large Cor- 
inthian pillars, giving a colonial effect. But 
this effect was entirely dissipated by the in- 
troduction of gables, towers and bay-win- 
dows, until no one could have said what type, 
or combination of types, had been in the 
mind of its architect. 

Dorothy knew little of architecture as a 
science, but she remarked on the apparent 
lack of harmony in the building. 

‘‘The architect had no voice in the mat- 
ter,’^ explained Mrs. Pettit. “Old Mr. 
Flower planned the house himself, and. 


FLOWER FOLLY 


73 


though he employed architects to draft his 
plans for the builders, the draftsmen were 
not allowed to advise or even suggest. He 
was obliged to dismiss one after another be- 
fore he could find one willing to obey with- 
out question. Of course all this occurred 
when I was a young girl, but I well remem- 
ber the irascible old gentleman. He was a 
tall, spare man with white hair, and looked 
strikingly like the pictures of Washington. 
He traveled much abroad and was always 
bringing home rare and beautiful objects for 
the adornment of this house. Indeed he 
brought a beautiful marble statue from 
Italy which mysteriously disappeared, — oh, 
yes, there is a mystery connected with the 
house, but I shan’t have time to tell you 
about it now, for here we are at the door.” 

They entered by the main or front door, 
though there was not much difference in 
the entrances on the various sides. 

Inside, the house was still squarely ar- 
ranged. Two wide halls ran straight from 
north to south and from east to west, termi- 
nating at the four doors. 


74 


DORRANCE DOINGS 


Where these halls crossed in the center of 
the house, was a most peculiar structure. 
It was a great chimney built round, with no 
less than four fireplaces, one facing in each 
direction. 

Delightedly, Dorothy walked all round 
this chimney and noted each of the four fire- 
places, with their sloping over-mantels of 
polished wood, and their high narrow 
shelves set on tall slender pillars. 

Then she announced her decision. 

have made up my mind,’’ she said. 
^^Now that I have seen those fireplaces, I 
am sure I could never live happily in any 
other house than this.” 

^ ^ Aren ’t they wonderful ? ’ ’ exclaimed Mrs. 
Pettit. don’t wonder you rave over 
them, and if you can only get it chopped 
down and sawed up, you have wood enough 
on this place to keep them all going all win- 
ter.” 

^^Or we could use one at a time, couldn’t 
we?” asked Dorothy, remembering that 
they would doubtless have many occasions 
for economy. 


FLOWER FOLLY 


75 


course you can/’ said Mrs. Faulk- 
ner. And there must be a furnace, too, for 
here are registers, you see. But it is an im- 
mense house to keep warm, my dear.” 

know it,” answered Dorothy, ^^and we 
shall have to consider that subject. But if 
the furnace requires more coal than we can 
afford, we will just put a stove in a room for 
Grandma, and the rest of us can get along 
somehow, I’m sure.” 

Beyond the great chimney was the stair- 
case. Dorothy called it a steam-boat stair- 
case, because the broad flight went half-way 
up and then branched into two flights on 
either side. At one time it had been deco- 
rated in white and gold, but now the gilt had 
almost entirely departed, and the paint bore 
little semblance to white. 

The rooms, both downstairs and up, were 
large and handsome apartments, and many 
in number. So many indeed, that Dorothy 
grew bewildered trying to decide which 
ones they would use, and which close and 
leave unfurnished. 

But she had brought pencil and paper 


76 


DORRANCE DOINGS 


with her, and she made a diagram which, 
though not accurate, was sufficient to desig- 
nate the arrangement of the house to those 
at home. 

‘‘Do you really think you can manage to 
make it habitable?’’ inquired Mrs. Pettit, 
doubtfully. “Of course, I know just to look 
at you, that you’re an awfully smart girl, 
but this does seem such a big undertaking 
for you to carry through.” 

“I like big undertakings, Mrs. Pettit,” 
said Dorothy, smiling, “and it isn’t so much 
a question of my smartness, as it is of deter- 
mination. I am going to try to make a com- 
fortable home out of this big empty palace, 
and I am bound that I will succeed. There 
will be plenty of difficulties, I have no doubt, 
but I shall get over them some way. The 
house is a wreck, so far as its decorations 
and minor details are concerned. But its 
foundations and walls are all right, and even 
if we only use some of the rooms I’m sure 
we can make them bright and cozy. My sis- 
ter Lilian has a real talent for fixing up 
pretty things, and she can enliven these big. 


FLOWER FOLLY 


77 


bare rooms without half trying. And my 
brother can paint and varnish and do lots 
of things like that, and oh, how we shall en- 
joy itr’ 

Dorothy’s eyes danced in anticipation of 
the fun they would have, and she appealed 
to Mrs. Faulkner for her view of the matter. 

‘‘Yes,” said that lady, “I think you are 
safe in taking the house. I don’t know any 
other family to- whom I would say that, but 
I know the Dorrances pretty well now, and 
I know their special needs and special capa- 
bilities seem to make a home of this sort 
both desirable and possible.” 

As they left the house it was with a little 
sigh of supreme satisfaction that Dorothy 
turned a key in the big front door and put it 
in her hand-bag. Even the difficulties that 
she knew would confront her added zest to 
the enterprise, and she was positively impa- 
tient to get back to the Dorrance Domain 
and tell the waiting family all about the 
Flower Folly. 

The outside of the house was of a dull, 
sodden gray. It had never been painted and 


78 


DORRANCE DOINGS 


its original stain had darkened, not to a rich 
old tint, but to an ugly lead color. 

^^It will. have to be painted,” said Mrs. 
Pettit, as they drove away. ‘‘I should rec- 
ommend light buff or cream color, with 
white trimmings and green blinds.” 

Dorothy laughed. ‘‘Dear Mrs. Pettit,” 
she said, “you haven’t yet realized the state 
of the Dorrances’ finances. If we were to 
paint the house, it would cost all the money 
we can afford to appropriate for necessary 
repairs and moving our furniture. If we 
should dash wildly into such extravagances 
as painting and papering and re-decorating, 
the place would have to be called, the Dor- 
rance Polly, instead of its present name. 
No, almost all that we do in the way of ren- 
ovating, must be done by ourselves. We have 
two capable servants, though I am quite 
sure we can’t afford to keep but one of them 
after we are settled. But we are all skilful 
with our hands, and my brother Leicester is 
a real genius about carpenter work and such 
things.” 

“Well, I think you’re a happy-go-lucky 


FLOWER FOLLY 


79 


crowd,’’ declared Mrs. Pettit, ^^but I glory 
in your daring, and somehow I feel sure you 
will succeed.” 

^^They will,” said Mrs. Faulkner; ‘Hhey 
had an equally appalling scheme on hand 
last summer, and they carried it through 
with flying colors. Yes, they’ll make a suc- 
cess of the Flower Folly, and though it isn’t 
the plan I had in mind for Dorothy, I wish 
her all the success in the world, and she 
thoroughly deserves it.” 

Mrs. Faulkner looked at Dorothy a little 
wistfully, and the girl gave her an answer- 
ing glance of love and sympathy. 

For a brief instant there flitted across 
Dorothy’s mind two contrasting pictures. 
One of a beautiful luxurious city home with 
every comfort and joy that a young girl’s 
heart could wish, each day opening up new 
vistas of life, every hour bringing delights 
and pleasures, and luxurious freedom from 
all care. The other, a big empty house to 
be put in order by means of hard manual 
labor, and with strong need for economy, 
unlaiown but inevitable obstacles to be over- 


80 


DORRANCE DOINGS 


come, and many deprivations and self-de- 
nials to be borne. 

But this thought was blotted out as quick- 
ly as it came, by the contrast between a life 
with her own dear ones, and an existence 
without them. 

And so Dorothy’s always buoyant nature 
reveled in glad anticipation of the happiness 
to come in their new home, and ignored all 
thought of difficulties. 

They next drove to the office of the agent 
who had the house in charge, and Dorothy 
gave him Mr. Lloyd’s address with the re- 
quest that he write to that gentleman, and 
arrange the business details of the transac- 
tion. Then they went to the Sheffield Inn, 
and engaged rooms for the Dorrance family 
while their new home was being settled. 
They would not come to Sheffield for a week 
or more, Dorothy explained, as there was 
much to do by way of preparation, and clos- 
ing the hotel for the winter. 

The good-natured landlord of the inn was 
quite willing to reserve the rooms until such 
time as the family were ready to come, and 


FLOWER FOLLY 


81 


indeed, it was no inconvenience to him, for 
guests were very few at his hostelry, and 
most of them were merely transient visitors 
who stayed but for a night. 

Then, everything having been attended to, 
Dorothy and Mrs. Faulkner w^ent home with 
Mrs. Pettit to remain over night. Impatient 
Dorothy would have preferred to go straight 
home, but the hour was too late to make that 
possible. 

So she spent a very pleasant evening with 
her loquacious hostess, and enjoyed making 
the acquaintance of Mr. Pettit and the two 
sons of the house. 


CHAPTER VI 

MOVING SCENES 

D orothy reached home about noon 
the next day, and found the other 
children eagerly waiting to hear her 

news. 

“Is the house all right?. Did you take 
it?’’ cried Leicester, while Fairy flew 
around, shouting: “When are we going? 
When are we going? When are we going 
like a large-sized and very much excited 
parrot. 

“Wait a minute, do,” exclaimed Dorothy, 
laughing. “Let me get my breath, and then 
let’s all go where Grandma is and I’ll tell 
you all about it.” 

So the whole crowd congregated in the 
south parlor, while Dorothy described to 
them the Flower Folly. 

“Tell us one thing, before you begin,” 
82 


MOVING SCENES 


83 


said Lilian, who liked to start straight. 
^^Did yon engage the house"?” 

^^Yes,” answered Dorothy, ‘‘I did, and 
now I’ll tell you about it, and if you don’t 
like the prospect, we can probably cancel the 
agreement to take it. In the first place, it’s 
a very large house.” 

^‘As large as this?” asked Fairy, waving 
her arms around to indicate the Domain. 

‘‘No, of course not. This is a hotel. But 
the Polly is large for a house, I mean, and 
it has lots of large rooms, but they’re all 
jumbled up together, and you can’t tell what 
any of them are meant for.” 

“It doesn’t matter,” said Leicester; “we 
can put them to any use we choose. Is the 
house in very bad condition. Dot?” 

“It is, and it isn’t. There’s a gorgeous 
gold and white staircase like those on the 
Fall River boats, only the white and gold is 
pretty much gone, but the staircase is left.” 

“I never saw a staircase like that in a 
house,” observed Lilian. “How do you 
know which way to go when it branches both 
ways?” 


84 


DORRANCE DOINGS 


‘‘You sit down on the landing and think 
it over/^ explained Leicester, kindly, “and 
if you’re still undecided, you wait until 
some one comes along who can advise you. 
Oh, you’ll get up to the top somehow, Lilian, 
never fear. But go on. Dot, tell us more.” 

“Well, the whole house is a great big 
cube.” 

“What color?” 

“A dark, ugly, lead color, the most 
gloomy color you ever saw.” 

“I don’t want to live in an old black 
house,” said Fairy, who was sitting on a 
small table, with her feet in a chair. 

“Never mind. Baby, we’ll have it white- 
washed, and then it will look lovely, when 
it doesn’t rain,” consoled Leicester. “Go 
on. Dot.” 

“And there are four great big entrances.” 

“Any exits?” 

“Yes, you can go out opposite to where 
you came in. The four doors are on the four 
sides, and two big halls run right through 
the house across each other.” 

“You’re not very clear, but I suppose you 


MOVING SCENES 85 

mean these two halls cut the house into quar- 
ters.” 

^^Yes, but it’s so cut up anyway that 
they’re not exactly quarters, they’re just 
rooms scattered all over. And then, just 
listen to this ! In the middle is a great big 
chimney, with fireplaces all around it. Four 
of them!” 

‘^That’s a fairy story,” protested Fairy, 
jumping down from her perch and coming 
over to shake her finger solemnly at Dor- 
othy. There couldn’t possibly be such a 
thing as that.” 

‘^Well, it’s there, anyway,” reiterated 
Dorothy, whether it could be or not. The 
fireplaces are all around the big chimney, 
don’t you see, and we could each crawl up 
one and all come out together at the top, if 
we wanted to.” 

‘‘And if there wasn’t any fire,” supple- 
mented Fairy, gravely. “Only I ’spect we’d 
get our dresses awful dirty. But it will be 
nice at Christmas; we can each have a dif- 
ferent fireplace to hang our stockings by.” 

“Good idea!” cried Leicester approving- 


86 


DORRANCE DOINGS 


ly. ^^You are ingenious, little one. Any 
other heating apparatus, Dorothy?” 

Yes, a big furnace, but I’m sure it would 
take a whole coal mine to keep it going, so 
we’ll depend, in part at least, on the fire- 
places.” 

Then Dorothy produced her diagram, and 
explained how the various bedrooms were 
situated, as well as the rooms on the first 
fioor. 

‘‘This great big room, on the right as you 
go in, let’s make into a living-room,” said 
Lilian, “and put all our books and desks 
and easy chairs and sofa pillows into it, so 
it will be real cozy and jolly.” 

“Yes, let’s do that,” agreed Dorothy, 
“and we’ll fix up a lovely corner for Grand- 
ma, with her big chair and her foot-stool 
and her little work-table.” 

“And another corner for my baby-house,” 
cried Fairy, “and the kittens’ basket, and 
the bird-cage, — ” 

“And the rabbit-hutch and the dog-ken- 
nel,” supplemented Leicester. “No, Fairy, 
our living-room and menagerie will be sep- 


MOVING SCENES 


87 


arate. But I guess you can have a play- 
room for your dolls and toys. I think I’ll 
take this room for mine, if nobody else 
wants it.” Leicester designated a room on 
the second floor, and as all were willing it 
was decided that it should be his, and then 
the others began to pick out their bedrooms. 

‘‘What do you think, Grannymother, 
about it all?” asked Dorothy. 

“I think it will be all right, my dear, but 
I also think it means a great deal of hard 
work for you children. Are you sure you 
wouldn’t like it better to take a furnished 
house, or even to board for the winter at 
the Sheffield Inn?” 

“No indeed,” cried Lilian, whose house- 
wifely enthusiasm had all awakened at the 
thought of furnishing the new home. 
“Half the fun will be in selecting things 
from the Domain to take down to the Polly. 
Why it is just like having a department 
store to buy things at, and never having a 
bill sent in. And even when we have taken 
enough to furnish that whole house, there 
will still be plenty left here for the hotel.” 


88 


DORRANCE DOINGS 


‘‘Yes, that is so,” asserted Grandma. 
“This hotel is really overfurnished.” 

“I shall take that curly maple set for my 
room,” declared Lilian. “It’s so pretty.” 

“And I shall take my little brass bed, and 
my curtains with the blue ribbons,” said 
Fairy. “And we mustn’t forget the patty- 
pans and the hammocks.” 

“We must make lists,” proposed Lilian, 
quite as if they hadn’t already made innu- 
merable lists. 

But it was so much more fun to make 
lists now that they knew where everything 
was to be placed. 

Leicester went to work, and following 
Dorothy’s rough sketch as a guide, he made 
a neat and careful floor plan of their new 
home, which Dorothy declared couldn’t have 
been better if he had seen the place himself. 

Then taking each room separately they de- 
cided what furniture should be used, and 
Leicester marked the chairs and tables in 
their respective positions on his chart. 

All this occasioned much discussion, and 
consequently much hilarit}^, for the Dor- 


MOVING SCENES 


89 


ranees could not discuss anything for very 
long without getting into a gale of fun over 
it. 

^‘We mustn’t forget the rooms for Tessie 
and Kathleen,” said Lilian. ^‘Are there 
chambers in the third story, Dot?” 

‘^Yes. That is, one side of the house is 
cut up into rooms up there, but the other 
side is one great apartment, that Mrs. Pet- 
tit says is a ballroom. It isn’t furnished, 
but there are two mantels with lovely little 
cupids on them, which look as if they were 
meant to hold groups of wax lights or some- 
thing beautiful like that.” 

‘‘I suppose we won’t give many balls,” 
remarked Leicester, ^^but we can use it for 
parlor tennis or a roller-skating rink.” 

^‘Yes, and it would be a good place to dry 
clothes on rainy days,” suggested Lilian, 
who was a born housewife. 

‘^Children,” said Grandma, think you 
are doing wisely in planning to take this 
house, and I think with your unbounded en- 
thusiasm, and your willingness to work, 
you can make a success of it. I want to tell 


90 


DORRANCE DOINGS 


you, too, liow glad I am that you are so 
capable and so willing to take the responsi- 
bility of our family affairs. I am more 
than glad to hand over the reins of the house- 
hold, and rely on your young strength. But 
now, regarding your help in the kitchen. 
There could not be two better servants than 
Kathleen and Tessie, but I think, my dears, 
we cannot afford to keep them both. You 
can think it over and make up your mind 
which you would rather have, for with our 
smaller family I think we can get along with 
less help than we had during the summer.’^ 
Dorothy felt that her grandmother was 
right in this matter, but she found it hard 
to decide which she would rather keep. - 
^‘You see,’’ she explained, ‘‘the Folly is 
a big place to take care of, and there is a 
great deal of out-doors to it. Kathleen is 
so big and strong, that she could do a great 
deal of the work which Tessie couldn’t do, 
but, on the other hand, I don’t believe Kath- 
leen would stay with us without Tessie.” 

“I’ll ask her!” cried Fairy, and before 
anyone could stop her, she had whirled out 


MOVING SCENES 


91 


of the room, and was flying to the kitchen. 

Presently she came back, accompanied 
by the two Irish women. 

^^It’s both of us that’s afther wantin’ to 
go wid yez to your new home, Mrs. Dor- 
rance,” said Kathleen, wiping a tear from 
her eye, as she spoke, ‘^but if yez can’t take 
us both, thin nayther of us can go. For me 
and Tessie is not to be separated again. 
Where one of us wurruks, there must the 
other be. It’s sad we are at thought of 
lavin’ yez, but we must shtay together.” 

Kathleen looked so broken-hearted and yet 
so immovably determined, that Dorothy had 
to smile. 

‘^I’m so sorry,” she said, ^^but we can’t 
keep you both. It would really be an ex- 
travagance for us to have two servants.” 

^^But Miss Dorothy,” began Tessie, ^‘how 
would it be if we worked for shmall wages 
apiece? If you’d pay me mother a shmall 
price now, I could be afther gettin’ along 
wid a little less, shure.” 

We ’ll have to think this thing over,” 
answered Dorothy, ‘‘but there’s one thing 


92 


DORRANCE DOINGS 


certain, we’ll keep you both for another 
month. That will give us time to get set- 
tled, and we’ll know better about our plans 
for the winter.” 

Tessie and her mother were very much 
relieved and jubilant over this arrange- 
ment, and returned to the kitchen, entirely 
satisfied for the time being. 

‘‘It’s a great comfort,” said Dorothy, “to 
have those two to help us move.” 

“And another right man in the right 
place,” remarked Leicester, “is Mr. Hickox. 
He is going to attend to packing and start- 
ing our furniture. He says we’ll have to 
charter a car, and then he’ll get a big van 
and carry the things over to the car.” 

“He’s a duck,” agreed Dorothy, “and I 
don’t know how we’ll get along without him 
down at the Folly. He would be most use- 
ful there.” 

“Perhaps there’ll be somebody of the 
same type around there. Are there any 
neighbors. Dot?” 

“No, none nearer than Mrs. Pettit and 
she’s half a mile away.” 


MOVING SCENES 


93 


‘^Rather a lonely place, seems to me,’’ 
said Lilian. 

^^Well, it won’t be lonely when we get 
there,” Leicester declared. shall be the 
man of the house, and you needn’t fear ma- 
rauders, my child. I shall sleep with a gun 
under each pillow, and a tomahawk on a 
chair by the bedside.” 

‘‘Oh, pooh,” mocked Dorothy, “I’m not 
afraid of burglars, but — ” and her voice 
dropped to a thrilling whisper — “there’s a 
mystery in the house ! What do you think 
of thatr^ 

“Oh!” exclaimed Lilian, her eyes grow- 
ing big as saucers, “what kind of a mys- 
tery ? Do you mean the house is haunted ? ’ ’ 

“No,” laughed Dorothy, “nothing so ex- 
citing as that. And I don’t know any- 
thing about it, anyway. Mrs. Pettit said 
there was a mystery, but she didn’t tell me 
what it is.” 

“It won’t be a mystery long after we get 
there!” declared Leicester. “I’ll ferret it 
out, and expose it to the glaring light of 
day. Now let’s make tags.” 


94 


DORRANCE DOINGS 


Making tags was great fun. The Dor- 
rance children were most methodical, and 
they all worked together while they made a 
quantity of little red and blue card-board 
tags. Bach of these was furnished with a 
bit of string, and then going from room to 
room they tied them onto such articles of 
furniture as they wished to take away with 
them. The red tags meant that those pieces 
must go anyway, and the blue tags were for 
pieces that could be left behind if necessary. 

It was left to Kathleen to select such 
kitchen utensils as she thought would be 
needed, and Tessie assisted Dorothy and 
Lilian to pack trunks of linen for dining- 
room and bedrooms. 

Then they selected such china and silver 
as they wanted, a dozen of everything, and 
picked out an appropriate dining-table and 
twelve chairs. 

don’t suppose we’ll often entertain at 
dinner,” said Dorothy, ‘^but we may as well 
take twelve chairs while we’re about it. 
There’s plenty of room to store them in the 
attic.” 


MOVING SCENES 


95 


But Leicester feared that they would ac- 
cumulate more furniture than they needed, 
so they compromised the matter by tying red 
tags on eight of the chairs and blue tags on 
the other four. 


CHAPTER VII 

THE NEW HOME 

T he last week in September they 
moved. 

Mr. Hickox had packed and dis- 
patched two car-loads, and there were still 
many blue-tagged articles of furniture left 
at the hotel, to be sent for later if desired. 

It was a beautiful autunm morning when 
the family started. All of them felt a cer- 
tain homesickness and regret at leaving the 
Domain, but as Dorothy philosophically re- 
marked, that feeling would pass away on 
the journey, and give place to anticipations 
of their new home. 

‘‘You know,” she said, “on the first half 
of a journey people think of what they’re 
leaving behind, but on the last half they 
think of what they’re going to.” 

“That’s right,” commented Leicester, 

“and I think that what we’re going to is 
96 


THE NEW HOME 


97 


probably a lot of bard work, but we’ll ac- 
complish it if we set out to do so.” 

^‘Do you remember that book we had 
years ago, called, ^What Might Have Been 
Expected^’ ” 

‘‘Yes, and everybody thought what was to 
be expected was a failure, instead of which 
everything turned out a howling success in 
the end.” 

“That’s us,” explained Dorothy, compla- 
cently, regardless of grammar, “we’re going 
to succeed, because that is what is to be ex- 
pected of us Dorrances.” 

“I don’t see any reason why we shouldn’t 
succeed,” said Lilian, sensibly. “We have 
a beautiful, big house, enough things to fur- 
nish it, four of us to accomplish the deed, 
and two strong and willing helpers. Pity 
if we couldn’t manage a little affair like 
moving and settling.” 

Fairy found much difficulty in saying 
goodbye to her friend Mrs. Hickox. A 
warm affection existed between these two, 
though they were so comically unlike. Half 
a dozen times before they left that morning. 


98 


DORRANCE DOINGS 


Fairy flew back to Mrs. Hickox’s humble 
cottage for another farewell scene. 

^‘Goodbye,’’ she said, on the last of these 
occasions, ‘‘you’ve been so good to me, and 
I’ve enjoyed your sciety so much. I don’t 
know how I shall get along without you, 
Dorothy says you have such good effect on 
my tubbulent spirits.” 

“I shall miss you very much,” and Mrs. 
Hickox wiped her eyes, “somehow or other 
you just poked yourself into my old heart, 
and I am surprised that I’m so fond of you. 
But you’ll come back next summer, won’t 
you?” 

“I don’t know,” answered Fairy. “Dor- 
othy says that as we’ve taken our new house 
for a year, she thinks we’ll live in it right 
straight through. But you never can tell 
what the Dorrances are going to do next, 
and posserbly we might come back next sum- 
mer. But anyway you must come down and 
visit us this winter. I’d love to have you 
for a guest, and we’d entertain you like 
everything.” 

“I ain’t much on visiting, child. I guess 



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THE NEW HOME 


99 


I can’t go so far from home. But I’d like 
to get a letter from you once in a while, if 
you’ll write it so I can read it. And you 
might send me a newspaper clipping now 
and again.” 

will,” assented Fairy cordially, re- 
membering Mrs. Hickox’s special fondness 
for bits cut from the newspaper. ‘‘I’ll send 
you lots of ’em. ’Vertisements and recipes 
and Hints to Housewives and How to Shine 
in Society and all those things. I know the 
kind you like, and I’ll send you heaps.” 

With another farewell embrace. Fairy 
danced away down the path, stopping here 
and there to pat a China aster or to kiss a 
chrysanthemum goodbye. 

When the train drew into Sheffield that 
afternoon, it was a wildly enthusiastic 
crowd of Dorrances that jumped out onto 
the platform. A lumbering old stage was 
there to meet them, and they all bundled in 
and started for Sheffield House. Mrs. Pet- 
tit was on the veranda, and she welcomed the 
noisy tribe with an enthusiasm (juite equal 
to their own. L Of C. 


100 


DORRANCE DOINGS 


Grandma Dorrance, who was wearied 
with the journey, was taken to her room to 
rest, but the children insisted on going at 
once to look at their new home. 

“There’s plenty of time,” urged Leices- 
ter. “Come on. Dot, come and show us 
where it is, that’s a good girl.” 

So leaving Tessie and Kathleen to look 
after Grandma and to unpack handbags and 
arrange such minor matters for their stay 
at the inn, the four children scampered off 
toward the Flower Folly. 

It was a half-mile walk, or rather run, for 
they got over the ground pretty rapidly in 
their eagerness to see their new home. Dor- 
othy knew the way, and when they reached 
the foot of the hill on which the Folly stood, 
she paused, and with a dramatic gesture 
waved her hand toward the house. 

“Behold!” she cried, “our new Domain. 
The Flower Folly which is to be made a 
monument to the Dorrance wisdom!” 

“For goodness’ sake!” exclaimed Leices- 
ter, “that big black thing! It looks like a 
funeral pile!” 


THE NEW HOME 


101 


don’t mind its being such a dark gray,” 
said Lilian. think that’s a good stable 
color.” 

^‘It may be a good stable color,” scoffed 
Leicester, ^^but it’s no color for a house. I 
feel a rooted conviction that our first ex- 
penditure will be for white paint.” 

^ ‘ Indeed it won ’t, ’ ’ laughed Dorothy. ‘ ^ I 
asked Mr. Pettit what it would cost to paint 
that house, and he said about three hundred 
dollars. So you see.” 

‘‘What I see, is,” went on Leicester, 
“that I shall have to paint it myself. But 
I don’t mind a little thing like that. I can 
paint it some evening after supper. I love 
to work by moonlight.” 

“I’ll help you,” cried Lilian, enthusias- 
tically. “I think painting is lots of fun.” 

“I’ll help, too,” declared Fairy. “If you 
will just take off the shutter-blinds and set 
’em down where I can reach, I’ll paint the 
whole lot.” 

By this time the children had reached the 
house, and Dorothy produced a bunch of 
keys which she turned over to Leicester. 


102 


DOERANCE DOINGS 


Allow me to offer you the freedom of 
the Folly,” she said, with a low bow. 

‘‘I thank you, madam,” responded Lei- 
cester, gravely accepting the honor. 

With a flourish, he threw open the front 
door and stood aside for the girls to pass in. 

In a moment they were all four in the 
great front hall, and shouts of exclamation 
rang out as they beheld the great chimney 
and staircase which Dorothy had described 
to them. 

never dreamed it was like this,” cried 
Fairy dancing round and round the four 
flreplaces. ^‘You told us. Dot, but I didn’t 
seem to see it right in my mind. It’s like a 
fairy story castle.” 

‘^Come on, let’s scoot upstairs,” called 
Leicester, and away the four scampered up 
the staircase and through the great upper 
halls. Room after room they dashed into 
and out again, and at last found themselves 
up in the tower, breathless but happy. 

‘‘It’s great! It’s wonderful!” Leices- 
ter’s eyes were shining. “There’s a lot to 
be done, but we can soon turn this old mau- 


THE NEW HOME 


103 


soleum into a bower of beauty. I say, girls, 
let’s pick out our rooms.” 

Down they flew again, and first they se- 
lected the prettiest and sunniest bedroom 
for Grandma Dorrance. Tlien the four ap- 
propriated those that pleased them best, 
and even then there were several large and 
airy bedrooms left. 

We ’ll have to take boarders,” suggested 
Lilian, ^^to fill up these rooms. And any- 
way, Dot, I’ve been thinking that it might 
be a good idea to take two or three boarders, 
and then we could afford to keep Kathleen 
and Tessie, both.” 

Don’t go too fast. Twin,” said Leicester. 
^‘There’s a lot to be done to settle this house 
for our own use, and after that will be time 
enough to bring in outsiders.” 

‘^I’m in no hurry,” agreed Lilian, good- 
naturedly. 

Then they went down again to the first 
floor, and explored more leisurely the va- 
rious rooms. The largest apartment, prob- 
ably intended for ■ a drawing-room, they 
agreed should be the family living-room. 


104 


DORRANCE DOINGS 


and all their pet belongings should be gath- 
ered there. 

The dining-room was most attractive, be- 
ing provided with quaint little cupboards 
built into the wall with doors of leaded 
glass. There was a picturesque fireplace 
with cozy seats on either side, and at the end 
of the room a huge stained-glass window 
threw a many-colored light across the fioor. 

‘^The stained glass in this house is some- 
thing appalling,’’ declared Leicester. 
didn’t know there was so much of it in the 
world.” 

‘‘And such beautiful glass,” said Dorothy. 
“I just love stained glass windows, when 
they’re real, and not imitation.” 

“These are real, all right,” Leicester as- 
sured her. “The question is whether we 
can live up to such elegance.” 

“We’re real, ourselves,” said Fairy, “so 
I think it’s most ’propriate.” 

“You’re right, Baby,” agreed Leicester, 
“and there’s probably more in what you say 
than you realize yourself. Come on, let’s 
play tag.” 


THE NEW HOME 


105 


Touching Lilian as he spoke, Leicester 
ran away with his twin in pursuit, and in a 
minute the four were flying upstairs and 
down, through the long halls, and in and out 
of the big rooms, with yells and Indian 
war-whoops, such as probably had never 
sounded within those old walls before, cer- 
tainly not in recent years. 

Then it began to grow dusk, and Dorothy 
said they must lock up the house and go back 
to the inn. 

‘^Before we go,” observed Leicester, ‘Sve 
must take formal possession of our prop- 
erty.” 

Uncertain in what the ceremony consisted, 
but ready for anything, the girls followed 
him into the hall. 

‘‘We’ll each take a fireplace,” he ex- 
plained, and so they stood around the great 
chimney, each facing one of the four fire- 
places. 

“These represent the four points of the 
compass,” Leicester went on, “and we pos- 
sess them all. Now we’ll cheer, and then 
each of us must move one fireplace to the 


106 DORRANCE DOINGS 

left, and then we’ll cheer again, and so on 
around.” 

Quick to understand, the children carried 
out the plan with grave ceremony. 

Leicester announced the first cheer. 

Hooray for the Flower Folly!” he cried, 
and they all repeated the words with a 
shout that nearly loosened the rafters. 

‘‘March!” came the command, and with 
measured tread the four moved around the 
chimney, each passing to the next fireplace. 

“Hooray for the Dorrance Domain!” was 
the next cheer. 

This was accomplished, and the quartet 
moved on again. 

“tiooray for the four Dorrance chil- 
dren!” 

Without undue modesty the children gave 
this cheer with energy, and marched again. 

“Last and best,” said Leicester, “Hooray 
for Grandma Dorrance!” 

The final cheer outdid the others in noisy 
enthusiasm, and then Leicester declared that 
the ceremony was over and the Flower Folly 
was now officially their own home. In high 


THE NEW HOME 


107 


glee, they locked up the house and started 
back to the inn. 

“WeTl begin tomorrow morning,” said 
Dorothy, ^ ' bright and early. W e T1 all come 
up here, and bring Tessie and Kathleen. 
They can do the scrubbing and cleaning.” 

^‘What can we do*?” asked Lilian. 

There’s nothing to do hut scrub and clean 
until the furniture comes, and I don’t sup- 
pose that will get here for several days yet.” 

^^I’ll help with the scrubbing and clean- 
ing,” said Leicester. ^‘I’d just as lief wash 
windows as not.” 

‘^All right. Less,” Dorothy answered, 
^^you wash windows outside, and we girls 
will wash them inside. And we can help a 
lot, wiping oif the paint, and such things as 
that.” 

Don’t wipe off the paint,” objected Lei- 
cester. ‘‘It looks better on.” 

“How can you wash the stained glass win- 
dows?” asked Fairy. “Won’t the stain 
come off?” 

“Ko, Baby, not off of those windows. 
They’re dyed in the wool.” 


108 


DORRANCE DOINGS 


‘^And they’re a yard wide,” added Lilian. 

Isn’t it gorgeous to have such big windows, 
and so many of them.” 

‘^The whole house is gorgeous,” exclaimed 
Leicester, ^‘and I’m so glad we’ve got it. I 
still think we’ll get it painted some way, 
though I don’t see any spare three hundred 
dollars around.” 

Couldn’t we paint it ourselves?” asked 
Lilian. 

Would you like to work on a narrow 
scaffold, hung by a slender rope, sixty feet 
up in the air?” asked her brother. 

^‘I wouldn’t mind, if I could be tied on 
tight,” she declared stoutly. 

‘^And then, ^When the wind blows, the 
scaffold will fall, and down will come Lilian, 
scaffold and all,’ ” sang Leicester. 

At this dreadful picture. Fairy set up a 
wail of woe, which was only pacified by a 
solemn promise that Lilian should not be 
allowed to mount the scaffold. 


CHAPTER VIII 

A WELCOME FEAST 

N ext morning a well-equipped proces- 
sion left Sheffield Inn and started 
for the Flower Folly. 

The four Dorrances went first, and were 
followed by Kathleen and Tessie, who car- 
ried pails and brooms, while the children 
bore other implements and paraphernalia 
of house-cleaning. Leicester’s two suit 
cases were filled with dusters, scrubbing- 
cloths, sponges and soap. The girls had va- 
rious sorts of cleaning-powders and polishes, 
and Lilian added a bottle of gold paint, 
which she was anxious to try on the tar- 
nished decorations of the staircase. 

It had been arranged that Grandma Dor- 
rance was not to go over to the new house 
until it was at least partially furnished. So 
that good lady stayed contentedly at the inn 

and let the children run affairs to suit them- 
109. 


110 


DORRANCE DOINGS 


selves. Grandma Dorrance never did any- 
thing by halves, and now that she had turned 
the management of things over to the chil- 
dren themselves, she allowed them to have 
their own way entirely. 

This arrangement proved a decided relief 
to the old lady, for during the two years af- 
ter her husband’s death her unsatisfactory 
endeavors to keep the children happy and 
contented had well-nigh worn her out. Of 
a fragile constitution, she was not adapted 
for responsibility and care, but, since Doro- 
thy had taken the helm, she had rested in 
placid content with the new order of things. 

The children hoped to get the house set- 
tled in about a week, and on the principle 
that many hands make light work, it seemed 
probable that they would realize their hopes. 

As the procession trudged up the hill, Lei- 
cester remarked, ^‘The first little trifie I 
buy, after we pay our moving bills, will be 
an automobile.” 

‘^An automobile wouldn’t run up this 
hill,” objected Lilian^ looking at the rather 
steep ascent. 


A WELCOME FEAST 


111 


''The big ones would,’' returned Leices- 
ter, '^and I mean to have a big one, about a 
sixty horse-power I think.” 

"You could get sixty horses just as 
easily,” commented Dorothy. "Have you 
the pennies saved up for your big ma- 
chine?” 

"No, I haven’t, yet, but you mark my 
word, girls, I’m going to own an automobile 
some day, and not so very far off, either. 
You see, the reason I like an automobile, 
instead of a carriage, is because they build 
them for five people, and there are five of 
us. I’m sure Grandma would enjoy it.” 

"I’m sure she would,” said Dorothy, 
heartily, "and indeed we’d all like it. I’ll 
promise to go with you whenever I’m in- 
vited.” 

When Leicester threw open the door of 
the big Polly, Kathleen exclaimed in amaze- 
ment. 

"Shure, it’s another hotel yez do be afther 
gettin’1 A few shmall childer like you 
would be shakin’ around in this place. It’s 
too big for yez, that it is!” 


112 


DORRANCE DOINGS 


no, Kathleen,” Dorothy assured her, 
‘‘no house is too big for the Dorrances. 
We’ll use most of it, if not quite all, and we 
like to shake around.” 

With six energetic workers it is not sur- 
prising that the work began with a rush. 
Kathleen and Tessie went systematically at 
the cleaning, sweeping, dusting, scrubbing, 
scouring, and polishing until the house be- 
gan to look more like a habitation, and less 
like a deserted ruin. 

The Dorrance children found plenty to 
do, and as they were not afraid of work, 
windows, glass doors, mirrors, marble slabs 
and white paint grew speckless and spotless 
beneath their flying hands. 

But after a few hours of this vigorous 
exercise, although Kathleen and Tessie did 
not appear fatigued, the Dorrances showed 
that they were not hardened sufficiently and 
were about ready to drop. 

“Whew!” exclaimed Leicester, as he 
came into the room where the girls were 
working, “how are you ducks standing it? 
I don’t want to squeal, but I must confess 


A WELCOME FEAST 


113 


I’m as tired as a dog, as hungry as a wolf, 
and as cross as a bear!” 

‘‘You sound like an animal story,” said 
Dorothy, laughing. “I’d be more sorry for 
you, if it weren’t that I’m as tired as three 
dogs, and as hungry as four bears.” 

“I’m a whole menagerie of all the vices,” 
declared Lilian, and Fairy expressed her 
feelings by a long doleful wail, “I’m starv- 
ing, starving, sta-a-arving ! ” 

“It’s nearly noon,” said Dorothy, looking 
at her watch. “At least, it’s after eleven, 
and I say we all go back to the inn now for 
luncheon, tell Grandma Dorrance what we 
have done, rest a little, and then come back 
this afternoon and work some more.” 

“That’s a lovely plan, all except the after- 
noon part of it. Can’t you change that a 
little. Dot? Say a nap in the hammock, or 
a couple of hours’ fishing?” 

“No, indeed,” said Dorothy, “we’ve put 
our hands to this big plough, and we’re go- 
ing to push it through.” 

“We are, indeed,” assented Leicester, 
who was far from being a shirk, in reality. 


114 


DORRANCE DOINGS 


^‘Come on, then, let’s toddle back to the 
inn for our midday meal.” 

But as they prepared to go. Fairy an- 
nounced that a carriage was coming up the 
driveway. 

Callers already?” exclaimed Leicester. 
^^Are you ladies receiving today?” 

‘‘Yes, indeed,” said Dorothy, “we’ll re- 
ceive anything or anybody that comes.” 

“Why, it’s Mrs. Pettit!” cried Fairy, and 
she started downstairs at a rate of speed 
that resulted in her falling all in a heap on 
the last steps. But such accidents were not 
unusual in Fairy’s career, and she picked 
herself up, ruefully rubbed her elbow, and 
flew out at the front door. 

By that time they had all scampered 
downstairs, and rushed out to greet the 
guest. 

“Well, well, chickadees, and how are you 
getting on?” exclaimed jolly Mrs. Pettit. 
“I wanted to be your first caller, as I’m your 
nearest neighbor, and so I came right over. 
And I’ve taken the liberty of bringing with 
me a small bite for you, because sometimes 


A WELCOME FEAST 


115 


recreation of the sort you are indulging in 
makes it quite possible for people to nibble 
a cracker or two.’’ 

As Mrs. Pettit was talking, her coachman 
set out a goodly-sized hamper the very looks 
of which caused the Dorrances to scream for 
joy. 

^^But Grandma will expect us home this 
noon,” explained Dorothy. 

So it was arranged that Kathleen and 
Tessie should be taken back to the inn in 
Mrs. Pettit’s carriage, and should tell 
Grandma Dorrance that the young people 
were provided for as to luncheon, and would 
not return until late in the afternoon. 

Then such a jolly spread as they had. 
All their lives the Dorrances never forgot 
the delightful little feast that came to them 
so opportunely. 

Mrs. Pettit had brought plates and forks 
and glasses, as well as a goodly supply of 
tempting viands. Her notion of a tiny bite 
was a generous one, and when an impromptu 
table had been arranged of a couple of 
boards held up by barrels, and the good 


116 


DORRANCE DOINGS 


tilings set out upon them, Leicester de- 
clared it was a feast for Epictetus. 

‘‘You mean Epicurus,’’ corrected Dor- 
othy, laughing. 

“I don’t care who I mean,” said Leices- 
ter, “as long as he isn’t here to eat it, and we 
can have it ourselves. Did you ever see 
such fried chicken in all your life?” 

“And such biscuits,” exclaimed Dorothy, 
“and such strawberry jam!” 

“Ajid such lovely milk,” said Fairy, 
whose blue eyes just showed above the rim 
of her glass. 

“Ajid such beautiful little tarts,” added 
Lilian. “Dear Mrs. Pettit, you are a fairy 
godmother, and you have saved our lives. 
We were just pining away in weariness and 
starvation, Avhen you appeared with your 
magic basket.” 

After the luncheon, Mrs. Pettit decreed 
that they should all sit on the sunny veranda 
steps and chat a little while, before they re- 
sumed their work, and when their visitor 
finally packed up her empty dishes, and 
drove away, she left behind her four re- 


A WELCOME FEAST 


117 


freshed and rested children ready to begin 
work with quite as much enthusiasm as they 
had felt in the morning. 

The days went by, and it was really sur- 
prising to find how the work of settling the 
house grew constantly easier and more in- 
teresting. 

Grandma Dorrance had advised that they 
should all come home every afternoon at 
three o’clock, for, she declared, that was 
long enough for a working day under the 
circumstances. She also arranged that 
luncheon should be sent to them each day 
from the hotel, and decreed that it must be 
eaten early. 

When the furniture arrived, it was neces- 
sary to engage the services of two strong 
men to move the big articles into their 
places. This part of the work was done in 
a couple of days, but there remained much 
else, such as hanging pictures and curtains, 
plachig rugs and so forth. 

The fioors throughout the house were of 
hard wood, but were sadly in need of a 
thorough scraping and polishing. This, 


118 


DORRANCE DOINGS 


however, could not be attended to at present, 
so the children contented themselves with a 
thorough cleaning, and then spread down 
the rugs which they had brought from the 
Domain. 

Although the summer hotel was much 
larger than the Flower Folly, yet the latter 
had been built on a more elaborate scale and 
had far higher windows and ceilings. The 
result of this was, that when curtains and 
shades were hung they were not nearly long 
enough, and presented a funny appearance 
by stopping far short of the spots they 
should have reached. 

Looks like the old lady who had her pet- 
ticoats cut all around about,” commented 
Lilian. 

‘‘We’ll have to put ruffles on them,” and 
Dorothy looked ruefully at the pretty cur- 
tains, wLich were all too short. 

The pictures, too, when hung upon the old 
fashioned porcelain headed nails that were 
driven into the wall close to the ceilings, 
were away above the heads of the children. 
This of course, could be remedied by length- 


'A WELCOME FEAST 


119 


ening the wires that suspended them, hut for 
the time being they were hung up as they 
were, and queer enough they looked. 

^^It’s like Alice in Wonderland,” said 
Dorothy, ^‘only we ought to grow suddenly 
very tall, as she did, in order to harmonize 
with these high ceilings.” 

^^We can’t grow tall enough, but we 
can arrange matters this way.” Leicester 
picked up Fairy and swung her to his shoul- 
der, then, walking around, he allowed the 
child a good view of each picture as it hung 
high on the wall. 

^^'You can tell the rest of us about them 
when you come down,” called Dorothy, 
gaily. ‘^We can’t see up to such dizzy 
heights.” 

At last the house was in pretty fair order. 
There was much left to be done, but the chil- 
dren were getting so impatient to move in 
that they decided to do so, and finish up the 
work afterward. 

Grandma Dorrance’s room was com- 
pletely in order, and the others were nearly 
so. 


120 


DORRANCE DOINGS 


It is a satisfaction,’’ said Dorothy, look- 
ing around the cozy living-room, to see 
what we’ve done, and to realize that we’ve 
done it ourselves.” 

^^Oh, we’re doers cried Leicester, “and 
it’s doing that counts. I haven’t any pa- 
tience with people that talk and plan and 
build air-castles that they never carry out. 
I believe in doing, and I do think the Dor- 
rances are doers, whatever other talents 
they may lack.” 

“I’d rather do, and have a good substan- 
tial mud-colored Folly, than to plan and 
dream about air-castles that haven’t any 
solid foundations.” 

“Well, if you’re so fond of doing,” began 
Lilian, “let’s do this. Let’s move in here 
tomorrow to stay. Don’t let’s wait any 
longer to get ready, but just pick up Grand- 
ma, and come up here and stay*” 

“All right,” shouted Leicester, “we’ll do 
it! Dot, can you get some breakfast foods 
and dinner foods and things from the mar- 
ket, or shall we have our first dinner sent up 
ready-cooked from the inn?” 


A WELCOME FEAST 


121 


indeed,’’ said Dorothy, we ’ll have 
no ready-made dinners for our first celebra- 
tion. I’ll order things tomorrow morning, 
and Kathleen will cook them, and Tessie will 
wait on our table, and we’ll eat our dinner 
here tomorrow night in a manner befitting 
a family residing in the Flower Polly.” 

Dorothy was as good as her word, and, 
sure enough, everything was in readiness for 
the first dinner in the new home. 

Mrs. Pettit, hearing of the plan, sent over 
beautiful autumn fiow^ers from her garden, 
and Lilian decorated the rooms and the din- 
ner table with her usual dainty skill. 

Of course the supreme moment was when 
Grandma Dorrance was driven up to the 
house and escorted in at the front door. 

She was more than delighted with the 
beauty and cheer of the new home, but as 
she sat down in her big chair and looked at 
the beaming faces of her four happy grand- 
children she said, ^‘It is wonderful, my 
dears, that you have been able to do all this, 
and to do it so well and so cheerfully, but 
after all, it is just what I expected of you.” 


122 


DORRANCE DOINGS 


A shout of laughter greeted this remark, 
and Dorothy said, ‘‘Grann3unother dear, 
that was the nicest compliment you could 
have paid us, for we Ve agreed to live up to 
the title of a story we read long ago, called 
‘What Might Have Been Expected!’ ” 


CHAPTER IX 

DOROTHY VISIT 

S HEFFIELD was fortunately pos- 
sessed of a very good school. The 
Academy, as it was called, was 
within easy walking distance of the Flower 
Folly, and within a fortnight the Dorrances 
were enrolled among the pupils. 

Ted Pettit was also a pupil there, al- 
though his older brother had graduated and 
gone into business. 

The Dorrances were great chums with the 
Pettit boys, and Dorothy and Ted were in 
the same classes. 

One day after school they all walked home 
to the Flower Folly together. With them 
was Peggy Pike. 

Peggy was a neighbor, and they all liked 
her, principally because, as Dorothy said, 

she was so perfectly ridiculous. 

123 


124 


DORRANCE DOINGS 


And indeed Peggy was funny to look at 
and more funny to listen to. She had thick, 
bushy, red hair, which never would stay in 
place, and a jolly, round, freckled face al- 
ways decorated with the broadest smiles. 
She was of a happy-go-lucky temperament, 
always losing her things, usually late to 
school, and generally afflicted with what 
Lilian called shiftlessness. 

The systematic doings and methodical en- 
ergy of the Dorrances were a source of won- 
der and admiration to Peggy, while her 
harum-scarmn ways and comical speeches 
greatly delighted them. 

On this Friday afternoon, as they walked 
up the hill toward the Folly Peggy re- 
marked, ‘^That black colored house is a blot 
on the landscape.’^ 

know it,’’ Dorothy sighed, ‘‘but it can’t 
be helped. We can’t have it painted this 
year, anyway.” 

“Why don’t you paint it yourselves?” in- 
quired Peggy. “You ’re such a crazy crowd, 
it would be no more surprising than the 
other things you do.” 


DOROTHY’S VISIT 


125 


^^Jiminy!’’ exclaimed Ted Pettit, ‘that’s 
a good idea ! Come on, let ’s paint it. We ’ll 
all help, and it will be the j oiliest kind of a 
lark.” 

‘‘Could we?” cried Dorothy, her eyes 
shining with a sudden hopefulness. 

“Of course we can,” declared Leicester, 
stoutly, unwilling to fall behind in enthusi- 
asm. 

“But where’s the paint?” asked practical 
Lilian. 

“Here’s where I come in strong,” said 
Peggy, her rosy face beaming with joy at a 
sudden thought. “My father makes paint 
and he’ll give us all we want. And he’ll 
give us brushes, and oils and everything.” 

“We couldn’t take it as a gift,” answered 
Leicester quickly, “but if your father would 
sell us the paint at wholesale rates or some- 
thing like that, we’d be awfully glad, and 
appreciate it, and I do believe we could 
paint it ourselves.” 

Ted Pettit eyed the big house thought- 
fully. 

“We couldn’t do the upper story,” he said. 


126 DORRANCE DOINGS 

We’d break our necks if we tried to rig up 
a scaffold.” 

‘‘Why don’t you have balloons,” sug- 
gested Peggy, “and just fly up high enough, 
and then lean out and paint'?” 

“Or walk around on stilts,” added Fairy, 
who was a clever little stilt-walker herself. 

“Well,” said Dorothy, “even if we can 
only paint one story, I’d be glad to have 
that done, and truly it would improve the 
looks of the place a lot. 

“Then here goes for the paint shop,” cried 
Peggy, and with her hat hanging down her 
back by one ribbon, and her red hair stream- 
ing in the wind, she ran laughing down the 
hill. The others followed at no slower pace, 
and soon the calvacade arrived at Mr. Pike’s 
paint shop. The case was laid before him, 
and that good-natured gentleman declared 
he had the very thing. A large quantity of 
light green paint had been ordered by a cus- 
tomer and afterward rejected, so he said, if 
this color pleased his young customers, he 
would be glad to get rid of it at a low price. 

Light green was the color of all others 


DOROTHY’S VISIT 


127 


that Dorothy preferred, and a short time 
a most satisfactory bargain was completed. 

The next day being Saturday, the squad 
of willing but inexperienced painters were 
up bright and early and went to work. The 
four Dorrances with Ted and Peggy were 
provided with brushes and buckets of paint, 
and this force was later augmented by 
the valuable assistance of Kathleen and 
Tessie. 

Then such a splashing as there was! 
Each one selected any portion of the house 
that he pleased, and painted as high as he 
could possibly reach. Dorothy achieved a 
triumph by climbing up the balcony railing, 
and painting the columns far above her 
head. The boys found ladders, and man- 
aged to reach as high as the second story 
windows. Lilian, in a moment of ingenious 
inspiration, ran upstairs inside the house, 
and leaning out of the windows, one after 
another, proceeded to put a neat frame of 
light green around each one. Fairy con- 
tented herself with piazza railings, and 
Peggy flew around like a bewildered bumble- 


128 


DORRANCE DOINGS 


bee, accomplishing very little, but making a 
great deal of fluster and fun. 

By sun-down, every available spot on the 
old house was light green, and though the 
upper story and roofs still remained of the 
original dark, lead color, the contrast was 
not inharmonious, and gave the effect merely 
of a novel and unusual method of decoration. 

The next Saturday a second coat was put 
on, and when that had been done, Dorothy 
expressed herself as amply satisfled with the 
appearance of her home, and declared that 
it was far prettier than if it had been painted 
all over. 

Peggy was delighted with the success of 
her scheme, and boasted that for once she 
had accomplished as much as the Dorrances, 
for though she could not persuade them to 
admit that she had done any of the work, 
yet she insisted that she had proposed the 
plan and had made them carry it out. 

Matters ran very smoothly with the fam- 
ily at the Flower Folly. Kathleen continued 
to live with them, for the principal reason 
that they could not persuade her to go away. 


DOROTHY’S VISIT 


129 


Grandma Dorrance was well and happy, and 
as the weeks went by, all grew more and 
more attached to their new home. 

Fairy declared it was nicer than the Do- 
main, because you could find people more 
easily. The twins liked it better than their 
summer home, because they were both stu- 
dious, and deeply interested in their school 
and their lessons. 

But Dorothy was not fond of school. She 
went because Grandma and Mr. Lloyd in- 
sisted upon it, and Mrs. Pettit advised her 
that she was not yet old enough, or suffi- 
ciently advanced, to give up her studies. 

But the routine was irksome to her, and 
it was with a thrill of delight that she read 
one day, a letter from Mrs. Faulkner, con- 
taining an invitation for a month’s visit to 
New York City. 

This would have seemed to the family a 
long separation from Dorothy, had it not 
been contrasted with the thought of Mrs. 
Faulkner’s proposition to adopt her. By 
comparison, a month was but a short time. 

So Dorothy accepted the invitation and 


130 DORRANCE DOINGS 

went to visit her friends with happy antici- 
pations. 

Although she had known that the Faulk- 
ners were wealthy and possessed a beautiful 
home in the city, she was not prepared for 
such a vision of beauty as met her eyes when 
she arrived there. 

Having no children to provide for, Mr. 
and Mrs. Faulkner had devoted their time 
and interest to the adornment of their home, 
and the result was a combination of beauty 
and grandeur with comfort and luxury. 
They were not formal, society people, but 
were of intellectual and refined tastes, and 
the atmosphere of the house gave Dorothy a 
first impression of a hospitable fairy-land 
which offered her a loving welcome. 

The rooms prepared for her own use were 
exquisitely pretty, and specially designed for 
her comfort. Her bedroom was furnished 
with rose-sprinkled chintz, and dainty Dres- 
den effects that delighted her beauty-loving 
heart. Opening from this was a little bou- 
doir, furnished in light green and gold. Here 
was a perfectly appointed writing-desk and 


DOROTHY’S VISIT 


131 


book-slielf, and a tiny sewing-table com- 
pletely arrayed. There was also in this room 
a large old-fashioned mahogany chest, with 
carved sides and brass-bound corners. This 
was empty, and Mrs. Faulkner told Dorothy 
that its purpose was to hold such gifts and 
trinkets as she should accumulate during her 
visit, and an affectionate smile left little 
doubt as to who would be the principal donor 
of these gifts. 

Dorothy had a wonderful capacity for en- 
joyment, and her care-free young soul ex- 
panded in sympathy with all this beauty and 
kindness. She beamed and dimpled in her 
appreciation until Mrs. Faulkner declared 
that she was the dearest thing in the world, 
and that she must change her mind and con- 
sent to live with her. 

But Dorothy only shook her head laugh- 
ingly, and said that for a month she was go- 
ing to give herself up to having a perfectly 
beautiful time, but that after that she was 
going back to Sheffield, resolved to work 
hard at her studies even though she did hate 
them. 


132 


DORRANCE DOINGS 


So immediately the fun began. Dorothy 
was whirled around to concerts, entertain- 
ments, picture exhibitions, and social func- 
tions of many kinds, everything that Mrs. 
Faulkner considered allowable for a girl of 
her age, and as her considerations in this re- 
spect were rather liberal, Dorothy was very 
gay indeed. 

Her simple home frocks were all inade- 
quate to this city life, and Mrs. Faulkner 
took real pleasure in buying new ones for 
her. 

Dorothy remonstrated, but to no avail, for 
Mrs. Faulkner only said: ‘‘I want to pro- 
vide for you for life, but since that can’t be, 
surely you won’t begrudge me the pleasure 
of taking care of you for a month.” 

Dorothy wondered sometimes, as most 
other people have done, at what seemed to 
her the unfairness of the division of this 
world’s goods. Here were the Faulkners, 
with more means than they could possibly 
find use for, while the Dorrances were 
obliged to economize in many ways, in order 
to live within their income. If they had only 


DOROTHY’S VISIT 


133 


a little more money each year, Dorothy 
thought, life would be so easy. But her nat- 
urally philosophic nature felt no envy or 
jealousy of her more fortunate friends. Re- 
pining was impossible to her. Instead, she 
involuntarily tried to plan some way by 
which she could add to the family finances. 

She discussed this matter frankly with 
Mrs. Faulkner, and that lady knew the 
proud spirit of her young guest too well to 
offer, however delicately, any pecuniary aid. 

It was a difiicult question, for Dorothy did 
not mean to enter upon a professional ca- 
reer, or to perfect herself in any branch of 
skilled labor. 

^‘I just want to do something at home,’’ 
she explained, ‘‘by which I can earn a little 
money to help Grandma take care of us. I 
did pretty well with the Domain, last sum- 
mer, and sometimes I think we might take 
some boarders in Sheffield. But it’s so dif- 
ferent — bringing people right into your fam- 
ily. The hotel was less intimate, and I 
didn’t mind that. But to get two or three 
outsiders into the Polly would spoil our fam- 


134 


DORRANCE DOINGS 


ily circle, and I wish I could think of some 
better plan.” 

^‘But, dear child,” said Mrs. Faulkner, 
‘^what you want, is just the sort of thing 
that hundreds of gentlewomen would like to 
have, and yet it is the hardest thing in the 
world to achieve. I know of two dear girls 
who get quite a little income by making fan- 
cy things for German favors, — but that isn’t 
very practical for you, since you don’t live in 
the city, and would have no market for them 
in Sheffield.” 

‘^That’s true,” sighed Dorothy, ^^but that 
is just the kind of work I mean. And if it 
could be something that we could all work 
at, we have lots of spare hours, after school, 
and evenings, and Saturdays.” 

We will think it over while you are here, 
and perhaps we can find something. It will 
be a pity, indeed, if such ingenious people as 
you and Mr. Faulkner and myself can’t in- 
vent a plan to turn a few honest pennies.” 

‘‘I’ve sometimes thought,” hesitated Dor- 
othy, “that perhaps I could write things. I 
haven’t done much, but I have done some 


DOROTHY’S VISIT 


135 


verses, and thougli I know they’re pretty 
poor, I’d be glad to have you look at them.” 

She produced some manuscripts, and 
Mrs. Faulkner read the somewhat sentimen- 
tal verses. 

course you know, Dorothy,” she said, 
when she had finished reading, ^Hhat I’m 
very fond of you. But no amount of friend- 
liness can make it advisable for me to give 
you an opinion about this work, other than 
what I really think. So I must risk your 
disappointment and tell you that I do not 
believe, judging from these, that you have 
any literary talent.” 

Instead of looking crestfallen or heart- 
broken, Dorothy burst into a gay laugh. 

^^Of course I want you to be frank,” she 
said. ^^I didn’t really think they were any 
good myself, but I do want to write, and I 
thought maybe, perhaps, possibly, you might 
see some indication that eventually I might 
do better. But if they are utterly hopeless, 
why then, — it only inspires me to try again. 
I will give up and acknowledge my defeat, 
if necessary, after a hundred unsuccessful 


136 


DORRANCE DOINGS 


trials. But I won’t call myself beaten after 
only one!^^ 

‘^That’s your Dorrance grit,” Mrs. Faulk- 
ner smiled approvingly, ‘‘and it may bring 
you success yet. It will, I’m sure, in some 
wayj but literature is not often produced by 
sheer determination, though sometimes I 
admit it does sound as if it were. Still, you 
are not yet seventeen, and I would advise 
you to postpone even the beginning of your 
literary work for several years yet. Even 
then I think, with your temperament, I 
should advise some field other than Senti- 
mental poetry.” 

Mrs. Faulkner said this without serious 
thought in the matter, but the idea she ad- 
vanced fastened itself in Dorothy’s mind and 
her buoyant imagination at once fiew to lit- 
erary ventures in some other vein. 

“Of course I’m not sentimental,” she told 
herself, as she thought it over afterward, 
“and I might have known I couldn’t write 
real poetry at seventeen, anyway. So I be- 
lieve I’ll write a play, a comedy I think.” 
And having arrived at this weighty decision, 


DOROTHY’S VISIT 


137 


Dorothy dismissed the matter from her mind 
as best she could, although whenever she 
thought of the folks at the Folly, her desire 
to add to the family income always caused 
her to wonder what she really was qualified 
to do. 


CHAPTER X 


A CANDY FROLIC 

T oward the latter part of her stay at 
Mrs. Faulkner’s, Dorothy was in- 
vited to a candy frolic at the home 
of one of her young friends. 

Ethel Cushing was a gay little butterfly of 
a girl, about Dorothy’s own age, and she had 
invited a dozen or more young people for a 
merry evening devoted to candy-making. 

This entertainment did not appeal strong- 
ly to Dorothy’s anticipations, for her only 
experiences in making candy brought to her 
mind merely a jumbled picture of thick, boil- 
ing molasses and yellowish, sticky taffy. 

However, she accepted the invitation, as 
she was fond of Ethel and of the other 
guests who would be there, and looked for- 
ward to a good time, irrespective of the can- 
dy part of it. 

Mrs. Faulkner helped her to di’ess in a 
138 


A CANDY FROLIC 


139 


dainty, embroidered white muslin. ^‘For,’’ 
said that sensible lady, you spill things 
on this it can be washed, but I don’t want 
you to spoil your pretty light silk frocks.” 

Accompanied by Mrs. Faulkner’s own 
maid, Dorothy rolled away in the carriage 
to the party, and was heartily welcomed by 
those already assembled there, for her sunny 
nature gave her the happy faculty of becom- 
ing a favorite everywhere she went. 

To Dorothy’s mind the candy party im- 
plied a gathering in the kitchen, but instead 
of that the young people were led out to the 
dining-room, where, on the long extension 
table was a bewildering array of materials. 
Confectioner’s sugar, chocolate, flavorings, 
fruits, and nuts were piled in trays and 
dishes. 

This was very different from Dorothy’s 
preconception, and she became interested at 
once. 

The preparations were great fun. The 
boys cracked the nuts, and the girls picked 
out the kernels. They all pared fruit and 
cut it into bits, they grated orange peel and 


140 DORRANCE DOINGS 

t 

cocoanut, they melted chocolate, and shred- 
ded pineapple. 

Ethel showed Dorothy how to make what 
is called fondant, which was the foundation 
for the greater part of their various confec- 
tions. 

Dorothy was surprised at the deftness 
with which these gay city girls moulded and 
modeled the beautiful candy, but she rap- 
idly became adept herself, and even origi- 
nated one or two novelties that they had not 
thought of. 

After the candy was finished, the guests 
were provided with fancy 'bonl)onnieres, 
which they were invited to fill with any 
sugar-plums they chose, and carry home with 
them. 

This pleased Dorothy immensely, for she 
was eager to take the wonderful candies 
home with her to show to Lilian and Fairy. 

After the candy frolic, the guests returned 
to the parlor, and amused themselves with 
games and music. 

Ted and Phil Pettit were there. Being 
Mrs. Faulkner’s nephews, they were ac- 


A CANDY FROLIC 


141 


quainted with many of her friends, and had 
been often at her house during Dorothy’s 
visit. This was a great pleasure to Dorothy, 
for they brought her news of the dear ones 
at home. 

‘^When are you coming home, Dorothy?” 
asked Ted. ‘^Soon, I hope.” 

^‘Yes, I’m going next week. It will be 
Christmas the week after, and I won’t have 
half time enough to get ready for it, any- 
way.” 

‘‘They’re making lovely things for your 
Christmas at Flower Folly,” went on Ted. 
“I wouldn’t tell you what they are for any- 
thing, so you needn’t coax, but one of them 
is very big and white, and another is very 
little and black.” 

“It sounds interesting, but I don’t want 
to know. I’d rather be surprised.” 

“Dorothy, will you be my partner?” 
asked Phil Pettit, coming along just then. 

Though Phil was only two years older than 
Ted, he always seemed so much more of a 
grown-up young man, that Dorothy couldn’t 
feel quite so much at her ease with him as 


142 


DORRANCE DOINGS 


with the boyish Ted. But she liked him, 
and prettily accepting his invitation moved 
away with him. 

^^What an awfully nice girl Miss Dor- 
rance is,” said one of the New York boys to 
Ted, as they stood ready to go home. 

She’s a brick,” exclaimed Ted heartily. 

She’s just the nicest girl I know, and I’ll 
be glad when she comes back to Sheffield.” 

Dorothy went home from the party care- 
fully carrying her pretty little basket of 
home-made confectionery. She showed it to 
Mrs. Faulkner with delight, and said that 
she should put it in her chest to take home 
for Fairy’s Christmas. 

Dorothy’s chest had been rapidly filling 
with pretty things until now its capacity 
was getting decidedly limited. It held not 
only beautiful gifts that Mrs. Faulkner had 
given her for herself, but an array of Christ- 
mas presents to take home to the family. 
Some of these were sent to them by Mrs. 
Faulkner, and others Dorothy had made her- 
self. She was a quick little needle- woman, 
and under Mrs. Faulkner’s instruction, and 


A CANDY FEOLIC 


143 


with her help, had fashioned many little ar- 
ticles for Grandma and the others. 

The morning after the party, Dorothy 
came to Mrs. Faulkner with an eager face. 

‘‘It you don’t mind,” she said, ‘‘and if it 
wouldn’t make too much mess, I’d like to 
make some candy such as we made last night, 
to take home to the children.” 

“A capital idea!” exclaimed Mrs. Faulk- 
ner. “You ’ll en j oy making it , and it ’s much 
better for them than many of the kinds one 
buys.” 

So down town they went, and Dorothy her- 
self selected all sorts of fruits and nuts and 
various dainties, and then procuring a large 
bag of just the right kind of sugar they 
drove home with their treasures. 

Although some of Dorothy’s ambitious at- 
tempts along elaborate lines were not quite 
successful, turning out to be mushy, shape- 
less affairs, yet most of them were dainty, 
well-made and decidedly eatable confec- 
tions. When Mr. Faulkner came home that 
evening he was asked to express his opinion 
of the amateur work, and he declared with 


144 


DORRANCE DOINGS 


great earnestness that such delicious ambro- 
sia had never before been seen away from 
Mount Olympus. 

Dorothy laughed at his exaggerated com- 
pliments, and proceeded to pack her pretty 
candies in fancy boxes which had been 
bought for the purpose. 

When the day came for leaving the city 
and returning to the Folly, Dorothy felt, as 
she expressed it, the most mixed up emo- 
tions. 

‘‘I have had such a good time here,” she 
said, smiling through tear-drops, ^‘but I 
shall also be so glad to get home.” 

‘‘I understand, dearie, and it is all right. 
That is your home, and those are your peo- 
ple, and though I shall miss you sadly, yet 
I am glad, for your sake, that you are to be 
reunited.” 

“It seems as if I couldn’t wait a day long- 
er to hear Fairy scream,” said Dorothy. 
“Her yells are not musical, but somehow I’m 
homesick for them.” 

And sure enough the first thing that 
Dorothy heard, as, her journey ended, she 


A CANDY FROLIC 


145 


readied the Folly, was an ear-splitting 
shriek from Fairy, as she fell do^vnstairs in 
her haste to greet her sister. 

^^Your head doesn’t mind, Bab}^,” said 
Leicester, who had picked her up and 
straightened her out. 

^‘No, not a bit, and I wouldn’t care if it 
did, I’m so glad to see Dorothy again.” 

Scrambling down from Leicester’s arms. 
Fairy flew to Dorothy’s, and persisted in 
clinging to her for the rest of the day. 

even forgot how you looked, Dot,” she 
said, you’ve been away so long. And what 
do you think? Less has made a new kitchen 
table, and Lilian made a lampshade, — a love- 
ly green crinkly one, and Tessie made brown 
bread!” 

Dorothy was duly elated over these won- 
derful achievements, and after having ex- 
amined them with due care said: ‘‘And 
what do you suppose I’ve made?” 

As nobody could guess, she produced at 
once a box of her wonderful candies. She 
had meant to keep them until Christmas, but 
the temptation to get them out now was too 


146 


DORRANCE DOINGS 


strong, and besides they were really much 
better if eaten while fresh. 

The children’s exclamations at sight of 
the confectionery were of an unusual grade 
of vociferousness, as befitted the occasion. 
They could scarcely believe that Dorothy 
had really made the dainties, and when con- 
vinced of the fact they proceeded to consume 
them with all speed. 

‘‘Why if you can make these things. Dot,” 
said Leicester, with a cream almond in one 
hand and a chocolate date in the other, 
“there’s no need of being sparing with them. 
We’ll just eat all we want, and as soon as you 
get your hat off, you can make us some 
more.” 

“All right,” said Dorothy, laughing, “but 
if you put them away at that rate, we’ll soon 
have a hospital here, and I’ll have to organ- 
ize myself into a trained nurse.” 

Then Peggy Pike came running in to wel- 
come Dorothy home, and next Mr. and Mrs. 
Pettit and the two boys came over. 

The Dorrances were hospitably inclined, 
but Dorothy felt a shade of regret as she 


A CANDY FROLIC 147 

saw her precious candies so rapidly disap- 
pearing. 

Not so Leicester. 

‘^Help yourselves, ladies and gentlemen,” 
he urged, generously. ‘‘We have an inex- 
haustible supply of these delicacies, and if 
you will come round again tomorrow night, 
we will offer you more.” 

“Well come,” said Ted Pettit. “And 
we’ll help make the things. I’ve assisted at 
candy manufacturing before, and it’s great 
fun. Isn’t it. Dot?” 

“Yes, indeed,” said Dorothy, “and if 
you’ll all help, we can make a lot, so we can 
each have some for Christmas.” 

This plan was agreed to, and amplified un- 
til it was arranged that the Pettits were to 
bring fruits, Peggy nuts, while the-Dor- 
rances would supply the sugar and other 
needful materials. Then they would all help 
with the work, and incidentally have a merry 
party, after which the completed candies 
would be divided among them all. 

The plan was a great success and the three 
boys cracked nuts and did the harder parts 


148 


DORRANCE DOINGS 


of the work, while the girls cleverly manipu- 
lated the soft candies. 

Lilian was specially deft at this, but Peg- 
gy was awkward, and not very capable. 
Fairy flew around in such an excited state, 
that she was of no help, but nobody consid- 
ered her a hindrance, she was so bubbling 
over with fun and foolishness. 

^‘My! but I’m glad you people came and 
took this house,” said Peggy, as she sat 
picking out English walnuts that Leicester 
cracked for her. 

‘^I’m glad, too,” confessed Dorothy, look- 
ing critically at a measure of sugar. ‘‘It is 
nicer to live where your neighbors can come 
in to visit you, than where you’re the only 
family in the world. I just love this house, 
and I doubt if we go back to the Domain 
next summer at all.” 

“Since this house became such a flne ex- 
ample of landscape painting,” said Ted, 
“it’s really worth living in.” 

“Yes,” added Phil, “and then there’s al- 
ways the chance that you may And the 
statue.” 


A CANDY FROLIC 


149 


‘‘What is this about the statue?’’ asked 
Leicester. “ I ’ve never seen any statue since 
we’ve been here.” 

“You’d better wish you could,” said Phil. 
“It would mean just five thousand dollars 
to you.” 

“Whew!” exclaimed Leicester. “Put 
that in plain English, will you?” 

“Always willing to oblige,” said Phil, 
gaily. “In words of one syllable then, my 
child, it’s just this. When the old gentleman 
Flower built this house, he is said to have 
brought here a beautiful white marble statue 
from Italy, or some other sunny strand. It 
was seen to enter the house, — there are men 
who have sworn that they brought it in. It 
was never known to leave the house, unless 
it walked away by itself some dark night, 
and yet it isn’t in the house. That sounds 
like a riddle, and it is one. And the heirs of 
the estate have offered five thousand dollars 
for its solution. That is, they will give that 
reward to anyone who will find the statue 
and restore it to them.” 

“ Who is it a statue of ? ” asked Leicester, 


150 


DORRANCE DOINGS 


‘‘I don’t Imow. But that doesn’t really 
matter. If you run across any fine Italian 
statue in the nooks and crannies of this 
house, it will probably be the right one. 

‘‘Are you sure it’s in the house?” asked 
Dorothy. 

“Well, I ’m more nearly sure that it isn ’t, ’ ’ 
answered Phil. “For, to tell the truth, long 
years ago I went through this house pretty 
thoroughly, myself. I chose broad daylight 
for my operations, for it is said,” Phil’s 
voice sank to a thrilling whisper, “that the 
house is haunted by the ghost of that same 
statue, who walks around on dim moonless 
nights, cla-a-anking its cha-a-ains!” His 
imitation of trembling terror made them all 
laugh. But Leicester only remarked, casu- 
ally: “When I find the statue and get the 
reward, I can buy my automobile.” 


CHAPTEE XI 

ANXIOUS HEARTS 

J ANUAEY brought new and delightful 
doings to the Dorrances. Always 
fond of outdoor sports, they joyfully 
welcomed the opportunities for coasting, 
sleighing and skating. It was a very cold 
winter, but never too cold for the quartet, 
who, well wrapped up with tippets and mit- 
tens, went out every pleasant afternoon, in- 
tent on winter fun. 

Often Mrs. Pettit took them sleigh-riding 
in her big roomy sleigh, with its billowy fur 
robes, and its jingling silver bells. 

But quite as well they liked coasting down 
the long hill on their sleds, or on a big to- 
boggan which Leicester and the Pettit boys 
rigged up. 

Fairy was especially expert as a coaster. 
She seemed a part of her sled, and starting 

at the top of the hill could go down in a swift 
151 


152 


DORRANCE DOINGS 


serpentine way that would leave a beautiful 
track in regular curves from top to bottom. 
This feat she loved to perform every time 
there was a fresh fall of snow. 

Owing to her light weight, for they all 
declared that Fairy was nothing but a bub- 
ble, the child usually managed to get a ride 
up hill, as well as down, since no one minded 
pulling her up on her sled. 

But on the skating pond the twins were 
the experts. Hand in hand they would glide 
gracefully over the ice, cutting fancy figures 
with a skill hitherto tmknown in Sheffield. 

Of course the Borrances were great favor- 
ites with the village girls and boys, and were 
always invited to the skating parties or the 
merry box-sleigh rides. 

^Hsn’t it wonderful,’’ said Dorothy, as 
they sat at dinner one evening, ‘Ho think of 
the difference between city and country life ! 
Of course I had a perfectly beautiful time 
at Mrs. Faulkner’s, but I mean the way we 
used to live in the city, before we went up 
to the Domain.” 

“Prithee, madam, make no reference to 


ANXIOUS HEARTS 


153 


those dire and dreadful days/’ implored 
Leicester, in mock heroic tones. ^‘Let them 
be ever buried in dark oblivion.” 

What’s an oblivveroni” inquired Fairy, 
always ready to acquire a new word for her 
vocabulary. ‘ ^ Is it like a dungeron ’ ’ 

‘^Well, it’s something to bury things in,” 
replied her brother, ^^and it’s deeper than a 
dungeon, but not so deep as a well.” 

While Fairy was pondering over this ex- 
planation which didn’t at all explain, Lilian 
gave a sudden jump and an exclamation of 
fright. 

‘‘Oh!” she cried, “what is that^” 

“What’s whatr’ asked Leicester, not spe- 
cially alarmed. 

But Lilian, thoroughly alarmed, was 
trembling with excitement. 

“I saw a face at the window,” she ex- 
claimed, “a round, white face peering in.” 

“Most faces are round,” Leicester calmly 
reassured her, “and most of them around 
here are white.” 

“You needn’t make fun,” said Lilian ear- 
nestly. “I did see a strange white face star- 


154 


DORRANCE DOINGS 


ing in at the window, with big dark eyes and 
a hungry expression.” 

Leicester put his elbow on the table, and 
resting his chin in his hand pretended to 
give the matter deep thought. ‘ ‘ If it weren ’t 
for the dark eyes,” he argued, ‘‘I should say 
it might be the ghost that is supposed to 
haunt these premises. But so far as I have 
heard, ghosts always have eyeballs of fire 
that dart red and blue fiames.” 

Although this made the others laugh. 
Fairy set up a terrified shriek. 

^‘Keep still. Baby,” said Leicester, you II 
scare the ghost into forty fits if you do that. ” 

But Lilian insisted that she had seen a real 
human face and not an imaginary ghost, un- 
til Grandma Dorrance became a little 
alarmed and feared a tramp might be prowl- 
ing around. 

Leicester left the table, and went out on 
the veranda to investigate. 

He stalked out in imitation of fierce brav- 
ery, and after a few moments returned with 
a dignified bow to Grandma Dorrance. Ac- 
cept my assurances, oh. Dowager Duchess, 


ANXIOUS HEAETS 


155 


that no marauder molests your peaceful 
home. With my strong right eye I scanned 
the landscape, even to the horizon, and no 
fell intruder is among it.’’ 

With another sweeping bow, he took his 
place at the table again, and no more was 
thought of the occurrence. 

The unusual coldness of the winter weath- 
er made it difficult to keep the great Polly 
sufficiently warm for comfort. 

That is, it would not have been difficult, 
as Leicester said, if they could have burned 
a whole car-load of coal every day. But the 
rapidity with which the coal disappeared 
from the bin quite dismayed the children, 
and they economized in that direction as 
much as possible. It was their delight to 
have open wood fires in the hall fireplaces, 
but though these beautiful blazes produced 
great warmth to those sitting near, they left 
draughty corners at the farther ends of the 
long halls. The children, whose young blood 
was kept in active circulation by their vig- 
orous sports and energetic lives, suffered lit- 
tle inconvenience from the coldness of the 


156 


DORRANCE DOINGS 


house, but Grandma Dorrance, who was far 
from a hale old lady, succumbed to the 
draughty atmosphere and fell a victim to the 
dread disease of pneumonia. 

A cold, which remedies had for a time held 
in abeyance, suddenly grew worse and devel- 
oped one bitter night into acute pneumonia. 
It was after midnight when Dorothy, hear- 
ing her Grandmother’s moans, ran to her 
bedside and found her very ill indeed. She 
quickly aroused the servants, and then awak- 
ing Leicester sent him at once to find the 
doctor. 

The sleepy boy scrambled into his cloth- 
ing, scarcely realizing what it was all about, 
but as he dashed out into the cold, dark 
night, it came to him with a thrill that 
Grandma was in great danger and her life 
might depend on his getting the doctor there 
in time. 

‘‘If I only had my automobile,” he 
thought, as he sped over the hard, icy roads. 

It was more than a mile to the doctor’s 
house, but Leicester covered the ground in 
less time than he had ever done it before. 


ANXIOUS HEARTS 


157 


and, nearly exhausted, he gave the bell a 
great peal. 

Dr. Graham was a most kind-hearted man, 
as well as an able physician, and he showed 
his sympathy for Leicester’s anxiety by hur- 
rying his preparations, so that in a few mo- 
ments the boy found himself in the sleigh, 
and they were skimming along toward the 
Folly. 

Grandma’s illness proved a serious one in- 
deed. Dr. Graham said the attendance of a 
trained nurse was imperative, and the chil- 
dren begged that he would send one at once. 
Kathleen declared that it was all nonsense, 
for she could take care of Mrs. Dorrance 
herself. But the doctor said that skilled 
attention was necessary in the case, and so 
Miss White came to nurse the patient. 

For many days and nights there were anx- 
ious hearts at Flower Folly. The children 
tiptoed around, with seared faces, and 
seemed different beings from the four gay 
Dorrances. 

Kurse White was a great comfort to them, 
for aside from being capable in her profes- 


158 


DORRANCE DOINGS 


sion, she was a kind, warm-hearted young 
woman, and her bright cheeriness comforted 
the sorrowing children. 

She was a graduate of a hospital which 
prescribes white as its uniform, and in her 
spotless dress, cap and apron she so well 
suited her name of Nurse White, that the 
children called her the white nurse. 

When the crisis came, and she told them 
that Grandma Dorrance might not live 
through the night, she also held out hope 
that the dear life would be spared. 

‘^Humanly speaking,’^ she said, ^Hhe 
chances are about even, but if we can combat 
the disease tonight, I think tomorrow morn- 
ing will bring us real encouragement. ’ ’ 

The children would not go to bed, but sat 
in Dorothy’s room, waiting and wondering. 
Fairy showed splendid self-control by not 
crying in her wild way, but the result of this 
restraint was such a forced and unnatural 
calm, that it made the others’ hearts ache to 
look at her. 

As they sat there in a dim light, Dorothy 
said: ‘^It seems so dreadful for us to be 


ANXIOUS HEARTS 


159 


doing nothing to help Grandma. If we could 
only do something!” 

know it,” agreed Lilian, ‘^the very 
hardest thing to do is to do nothing. But I 
suppose the only way we can help at all, is 
to keep out of the way, and keep quiet.” 

Suddenly Dorothy gave a little start, as of 
fear. 

“I saw a face just then,” she exclaimed, 
‘^a white face looking in at the window. It 
just appeared for a moment, and then went 
away.” 

^^The same as I saw that other night!” 
cried Lilian. You said it was my imagina- 
tion.” 

^^I think you imagined it. Dot,” said Lei- 
cester, gently. We’re all of us nervous and 
worried and I can’t believe you saw a real 
person. But I’ll go outside and look, if you 
like.” 

‘‘No, don’t,” urged Dorothy, “let’s all 
stay here together. But it wasn’t imagina- 
tion, it was a real face, sad and sorry look- 
ing.” 

The children gathered closer together, and 


160 


DORRANCE DOINGS 


sat still waiting for news from the sick-room. 

^^If Grandma should be taken away from 
us,” said Lilian, ‘‘I don’t see how we could 
ever live. Other children have fathers and 
mothers and aunts and uncles, but we haven’t 
anybody but just Grandma.” 

^^Why do we have so few relations?” 
asked Fairy. 

‘‘Because both our parents were only chil- 
dren, ’ ’ answered Leicester. “We have some 
second cousins, away out West somewhere, 
but I don’t know much about them.” 

“I don’t want to go and live with them,” 
said Fairy. “Would we have to, if Grand- 
ma shouldn’t get well?” 

“Grandma will get well,” declared Dor- 
othy. “Somehow I feel sure of it.” 

“I wish I did,” sighed Lilian, “but she is 
awful sick. Dot.” 

Dorothy’s hopefulness cheered the others 
somewhat, but as the clock ticked on from 
midnight until one o’clock, and then until 
two, and still no word of cheer was brought 
to them, their hearts grew despondent. 

They had been asked to stay where they 


ANXIOUS HEARTS 


161 


were until summoned, and they implicitly 
obeyed instructions. 

At last, Fairy, worn out by her efforts to 
be calm, fell asleep in Dorothy’s arms, but 
the others still sat waiting. They talked lit- 
tle, but an unspoken S3unpathy was between 
them, and they smiled bravely for one an- 
other’s sakes. 

Soon after two o’clock, Nurse White came 
to them. The look on her face was quite 
sufficient to tell, before a word was spoken, 
that she brought good news, and that their 
suspense was at an end. 

So quickly did Dorothy realize this, that 
she gently shook Fairy, and wakened her at 
once, that she might hear the tidings with 
the rest. 

^‘Your grandmother is sleeping quietly,” 
said the nurse, ‘^and unless some unforeseen 
trouble should occur will get well. The cri- 
sis is safely past, and we have every reason 
to hope for her complete recovery. But she 
is very frail, and the least excitement might 
prove injurious. So I^m going to ask you 
not to go in to see her, but to go quietly to 


162 


DORRANCE DOINGS 


bed, and leave her to the care of Kathleen 
and myself.’’ 

The children agreed to this, and Lilian 
added : ‘ ‘ We ’re so glad to do anything, even 
if it’s only to go to bed.” 

‘^That’s a good girl,” said the nurse, ^^and 
be just as quiet as you possibly can.” 

Though it had not been difficult for the 
Dorrances to be quiet during the long hours 
of anxiety, it was not easy to restrain their 
feelings in the reaction which the good news 
brought to them. 

‘‘I feel as if I must go ’way out in the 
back yard, and cheer,” said Leicester. 

‘‘I do too,” agreed Dorothy, ‘^but if the 
only thing we can do to help Grandma is to 
keep quiet, why, of course we’re going to 
do it, and we’re going to be very, very, very 
quiet. But if we’re careful not to make a 
sound perhaps we can whisper a cheer.” 

Nurse White listened with great curiosity 
and interest to know what a whispered 
cheer might be like. 

Even the Dorrances themselves had never 
heard of such a thing, but they were quite 


ANXIOUS HEARTS 


163 


ready to devise or accept a new idea when 
occasion required. 

And so with an instant perception of her 
meaning, Leicester whispered very softly: 

Three cheers for Grandma Dorrance!’’ 

And then in concert from the four came : 
^‘Hooray, Hooray, Hooray and though the 
voices were scarcely audible, the emphasis 
and fervor could not have been greater if 
they had shouted. 

Then they went away to their rooms, and, 
their anxiety lessened, their exhausted young 
natures soon found relief in sleep. 

Doctor Graham had remained at the Folly 
all through the critical night, and next morn- 
ing he readily assented to breakfast with 
the children. 

‘^Your grandmother is a wonderful little 
lady,’’ he told them. ^^She put up a brave 
fight last night, and but for that I am not 
sure that Nurse White and I could have 
brought her through. She has a wonderfully 
strong will and great determination.” 

^^Then if we inherit her strong will, and 
also what is called the Dorrance grit,” said 


164 


DORRANCE DOINGS 


Leicester, ‘^we ought to be able to make our 
mark in the world in some way.’* 

It is a splendid inheritance,” replied Dr. 
Graham, ‘^and I am sure you youngsters will 
improve your opportunities to use it.” 

’Course we will,” said Fairy. ^"^We’re 
all going to grow up something splendid. I 
shall be a nurse with white dresses on, and 
go around saving little girls’ sick grand- 
mothers.” 


CHAPTER XII 

A NEW PKOJECT 

G randma dorrance did get weii, 

but her convalescence was slow, and 
it was necessary for Nurse White to 
stay at the Polly for a whole month. This 
was, of course, an unexpected expense, and 
sadly disturbed Dorothy’s financial ac- 
counts. 

The doctor’s bill also represented a con- 
siderable sum, and medicines and delicacies 
for the invalid had to be paid for. The re- 
sult of all this was a sudden realization upon 
Dorothy’s part that their funds were run- 
ning low, and moreover that it would take all 
their income for the second quarter of this 
year, to pay their expenses of the first quar- 
ter. This was an appalling thought, for it 
meant a large deficit at the end of the year 
and no prospect of being able to make it 
good. 


165 


166 


DORRANCE DOINGS 


To be sure, Dorothy thought, they might 
go back to the Domain in the summer and 
take boarders again, perhaps even make a 
bigger success of it than they had done last 
year, but this plan was too far in the future 
and too problematical to suit her energetic 
disposition, so one day she called a consul- 
tation of the quartet. 

It was, of course, kept secret from Grand- 
ma, who was not yet strong enough to hear 
about business worries. 

^^The time has come,” said Dorothy, 
‘‘when we must do something to earn some 
money. It doesn’t matter whether we can 
do it, or not. It doesn’t matter what we do. 
The fact remains, we’ve got to earn some 
money, and we’ve got to do it at once. Now 
who can make any suggestion?” 

The children thought. They quite real- 
ized the situation and there was no question 
in their mind about their ability to earn 
money. The thing to be decided, was only 
the line in which their efforts should be di- 
rected. 

“We might take boarders,” said Lilian. 


A NEW PROJECT 167 

There are plenty of extra bedrooms in the 
Folly.’’ 

Lilian,” reproved her brother, ‘‘I gave 
you credit, I really did, for more originality 
than that. We took boarders last summer, 
as you may possibly remember. This time 
we are going to do something different. I 
don’t know what, exactly, but it must be to- 
tally different. A decided change is always 
beneficial. If I only had my automobile — ” 

^^I’m talking in earnest. Less,” interrupt- 
ed Dorothy seriously, ^^and if we really go 
to work and do something worth while, and 
earn a lot of money, perhaps you can get 
that automobile you’re so fond of talking 
about.” 

All right,/’ cheerily responded Leicester, 
‘^I’ll talk sense. Now, let’s see, what could 
we do?” 

'^‘A little later we might raise things in 
the garden,” suggested Lilian. We’ve 
plenty of ground.” 

‘‘Plenty,” assented Dorothy, “but that’s 
a suggestion for summer or spring. What 
can we do now in January?” 


168 


DORRANCE DOINGS 


‘‘We might raise mushrooms in the cel- 
lar,’^ said Leicester. “I heard of somebody 
once who did that, and made a fortune.’’ 

“That might do,” deliberated Dorothy 
thoughtfully, “but it’s a risk, I imagine, and 
then it would be expensive getting them to 
New York to market, and somehow it seems 
uncertain. Can’t we think of anything 
else?” 

“Why don’t you write poetry?” inquired 
Fairy, who was the only one of the family 
who had any faith in Dorothy’s literary tal- 
ent. 

“They wouldn’t pay me enough,” she an- 
swered. “Very few people admire my 
poems as you do, Fairy.” 

Fairy thought again. “I might dress 
dolls,” she said. “I can do that pretty 
well.” 

“ That isn’t such a bad idea,” Lilian 
caught at the suggestion. “If only it were 
about Christmas time I believe we could sell 
a lot of dressed dolls. You’re awfully clever 
at sewing, Dorothy, and we could all help.” 

“We couldn’t sell enough dolls, except at 


A NEW PROJECT 


169 


Christmas time, to amount to anything,’’ ob- 
jected Dorothy. ^^I’m free to confess I 
can’t think of any plan at all. I’ve worried 
over it day and night, and I can’t get a good 
idea of any kind. But that doesn’t make 
any difference. We’ve got to do it, and 
we’re going to do it. The way we do it is 
yet to be decided upon, but do it we will!” 

^^Do it we will!” repeated Leicester, and 
then with one accord they all cried; ‘‘Do it 
we will!” with such energy that Nurse 
White came running downstairs to see what 
was the matter. 

It was Dorothy herself to whom a plan 
finally came. 

For several days they had all thought of 
the matter, and though various ideas had 
occurred to them, none seemed both practical 
and promising. But as the bills came in and 
the need for money seemed more pressing, 
Dorothy grew desperate and vowed to her- 
self that something must be done. 

One day she went out all alone for a long 
walk, inwardly declaring that she would 
think of something before she came back. 


170 


DORRANCE DOINGS 


Whether it was due to her determination, 
or not, an idea popped into her head which, 
the more she thought about it, the more fea- 
sible it seemed. 

She walked back home with a joyous step 
and a light heart. Saying nothing for the 
present to the other children, she wrote a 
long letter to Mrs. Faulkner, asking her 
opinion and advice. 

A few days later when the answer came, 
Dorothy read it with a jubilant expression 
on her face. 

What’s up?” inquired Leicester, looking 
at his sister across the breakfast table. 

^^Our luck,” replied Dorothy with a bright 
smile. ^‘And now if you people will attend 
a meeting of the finance committee, I will 
reveal to you how I propose that we shall 
restore the shattered fortunes of the noble 
house of Dorrance.” 

Grandma was present at this family con- 
clave. The dear old lady was now rapidly 
improving in health, and Dorothy wanted 
her to know all about the new plan. 

^Mt’s just this,” she said, as they settled 


A NEW PROJECT 171 

themselves in the living-room to hear all 
about it. 

Perhaps to say they settled themselves, is 
a misstatement, for the quartet never re- 
mained seated during a discussion. Leices- 
ter usually walked up and down the room, 
with his hands in his pockets ; Fairy was al- 
ways tumbling in and out of one big chair 
after another, while Lilian enjoyed herself 
best violently rocking back and forth in a 
large Sleepy-Hollow rocker. 

This physical activity on the part of her 
brood in no way disturbed Grandma Dor- 
rance’s placidity, for she was accustomed to 
their ways, and enjoyed them. 

^‘This is my idea,” went on Dorothy, vig- 
orously using the tongs on a refractory stick 
of wood, as she crouched in front of the fire- 
place, ^‘to make candy to sell.” 

She paused a moment for this statement 
to sink into the minds of her hearers. 

Leicester grasped its significance at once. 

Great!” he exclaimed. see it all! 
Howling success ! Everlasting fortune ! Au- 
tomobiles all around. Dot, you’re a genius !” 


172 


DORRANCE DOINGS 


don’t see it,” said Lilian. ‘‘Do you 
mean to start a candy shop?” 

“Not a candy shop,” explained Dorothy, 
“but this is my plan. 'You know we really 
can make very good candies, and if we could 
make lots of them, and sell them at a big 
price, it would mean a money-making busi- 
ness. Now if we all worked evenings at 
cracking the nuts and things like that, and 
then each Saturday made up a big batch of 
candy and sold it, there would be quite a 
profit each week. Of course, unless we could 
have a steady market there ’d be no sense in 
the whole plan, but I think we can arrange 
to sell all we can make. I wrote to Mrs. 
Faulkner a few days ago and asked her ad- 
vice, and I have here a lovely letter from 
her, saying that she thinl^s we can make a 
success of it. She went to see the caterer 
that she always deals with, and he said that 
if our home-made candies were first-class, 
and properly put up, he could sell them right 
straight along to his regular customers. So 
Mrs. Faulkner says it all depends on the 
quality of our goods, and the way we man- 


A NEW PEOJECT 


173 


age the business. And I think that if any- 
body can do that sort of thing, we can, and 
that’s all there is about that,’’ 

^‘Of course we can!” cried Leicester. 

It’s a great idea and already I see success 
ahead. Hooray for the Dorrance candies! 
A necessity in every home ! Unequalled as a 
breakfast food. Try our confections. You 
will never try any more!” 

‘‘1 can help too,” said Fairy, delightedly. 
‘‘My being the littlest won’t make any differ- 
ence. I can crack nuts, and grate cokernut, 
just as good as you big girls.” 

“So you can, Fairy,” assented Dorothy, 
“and if we work systematically we ought to 
accomplish a lot.” 

“Don’t go too fast, my dears,” said 
Grandma Dorrance. “Rem.ember the lady 
who carried her milk-pail on her head.” 

“Served her right,” declared Leicester. 
“Anybody who’s idiot enough to carry milk- 
pails on her head deserves misfortune. I 
don’t propose to carry these candies in to 
New York on my head. But I say. Dot, is 
the caterer man sure to take them?” 


174 


DORRANCE DOINGS 


‘‘He’s willing to try the experiment, Less, 
and if the first lot sells, we’ll keep on, and 
if it doesn’t we’ll have to try some other 
plan. But we must succeed, children, we 

“We will!” cried Leicester, and grasping 
hands, the four marched abreast up and 
down the room singing: “We will, we will, 
we will, we will,” to a favorite tune of their 
own composition. 

The more they talked over the plan, the 
more attractive it seemed. 

“We must have a name, a special name 
for our candy, different from any other,” 
said Dorothy. 

“That, my sister, is called a proprietary 
name, and I move we decide upon it at once. 
How about Dorrance Delights?” 

“That sounds like Turkish paste,” said 
Dorothy, “and besides, I don’t think we need 
use the Dorrance name. How about Shef- 
field Sweets?” 

“I like something more definitely our 
ovm, ” objected Lilian. “What do you think 
of the Domain Candies?” 


A NEW PROJECT 


175 


^‘But we’re not at the Domain now,” said 
Fairy. should think the Flower Folly 
Confectiorons would be nice.” 

‘‘You can get mo3’e extra syllables into a 
word, Fairy, than anybody I ever saw,” ob- 
served Leicester, “but I do think the Folly 
is a good name to use. How about Folly 
Candies?” 

“I like Flower Candies better,” said Dor- 
othy. “That sounds sort of dainty and 
fresh.” 

“I like that, too,” declared Lilian, and 
they all agreed that The Flower Candies 
should be their proprietary title. 

With the Dorrances, to plan was to do. 
That very day, when school was over, they 
began preparations for their work. 

After much planning and talking, they de- 
cided that they would have to have pretty 
candy boxes with the name on the lid, but 
■until after the first one or two trials, the 
expense of manufacturing these boxes must 
not be incurred. 

“It’s uncertain yet,” said Dorothy, “but 
though I think we are justified in buying 


176 


DORRANCE DOINGS 


materials for the first lot of candy, we’ll put 
it in plain boxes at first.” 

So Leicester went over to New York, and 
came back with two dozen neat, plain white 
boxes which would hold one pound each. 

Like everything else the Dorrances under- 
took, their interest and enthusiasm steadily 
increased. During the week, afternoons 
after school and evenings were devoted to 
the preliminary preparation, and on Satur- 
day they made twelve pounds of delicious 
candy. 

Dorothy chose the simpler kinds for be- 
ginning, and they exercised the utmost care 
that every piece should be carefully shaped 
and daintily finished. 

The boxes were filled, and Lilian, who was, 
as Leicester expressed it, addicted to the use 
of gold paint, traced in gilt letters the words 
^‘Flower Candies” on the lid of each box. 
Then the twelve white boxes were carefully 
packed in a wooden box, and sent by express 
to the caterer in New York. 

Almost breathlessly the children waited 
for news. 


A NEW PROJECT 


177 


Of course the candy could not be put on 
sale until Monday, and, as Leicester said, 
they probably wouldn’t hear anything about 
it until Wednesday at the earliest. 

Instead, a telegram from Mrs. Faulkner 
came to them on Monday afternoon, saying : 
‘^Candies all sold, send more immediately.” 

Great was the excitement among the Dor- 
rances at this very real assurance of success. 

‘‘I hope she didn’t buy them all herself,” 
said Leicester, struck by a sudden thought. 

‘^Of course not,” cried Dorothy indignant- 
ly. ‘‘Mrs. Faulkner wouldn’t do such a 
thing and then send a telegram to raise our 
hopes.” 

“And anyway,” broke in Fairy, “if she 
did buy that twelve pounds, she’d be too 
sick to telegraph for more.” 

“I wish she had finished out her tele- 
gram,” said Lilian. “She had room for 
four words more, and she might have told 
us something about it.” 

“She couldn’t have told anything much in 
four words,” replied Leicester, “and be- 
sides, I think she told us enough anyway. 


178 


DORRANCE DOINGS 


What more do you want to know than that 
our candies went off like hot cakes?” 

‘^That’s so,” said Lilian, ‘^and now let’s 
get right to work, so we can send more.” 


CHAPTER XIII 

FLOWER CANDIES 

M rs. FAULKNER’S telegram was fol- 
^ lowed the next day by a letter in 
which she told enthusiastically of 
the immediate success of the Flower Can- 
dies. The caterer to whom she had taken 
them was patronized by wealthy and fash- 
ionable people, who were always attracted 
by a novelty, and who were both able and 
willing to pay a goodly price for anything 
that pleased their fancy. Mrs. Faullmer, 
knowing this, had established the selling 
price of the Flower Candies at a far higher 
figure than the Dorrances would have 
dreamed of asking, and when her letter dis- 
closed this fact, the children danced about 
with joy. 

‘Hf you really mean to make a serious 
business of this,” Mrs. Faulkner’s letter 

ran, “it is well to set your price high, but, of 
179 


180 


DORRANCE DOINGS 


course, the candies must be worth that price, 
and must keep up to the original standard. 
The first lot is all right, and you can doubt- 
less maintain that degree of excellence, and 
probably even improve with experience. 
But if you mean to make a real success of it 
all, you must send the candies regularly and 
promptly, and so establish a permanent rep- 
utation.’’ 

^‘When I grow up,” sighed Fairy, do 
hope I shall know as many big words as Mrs. 
Faulkner does. She seems to use them spon- 
tanoriously.” 

/‘I’ll bet she never used that one,” said 
Leicester, “and you can hold your own. 
Baby, with ’most anybody in the matter of 
big words. But I say. Dot, this candy busi- 
ness looks promising.” 

‘ ‘ Promising ! ’ ’ Dorothy ’s eyes were spark- 
ling, “it’s a success! We’re all right, and 
we’ll make the Flower Candies known all 
over the world.” 

“Where’er the foot of mortal man has 
went there too the Flower Candies shall be 
sent!” exclaimed Leicester. 


FLOWER CANDIES 


181 


‘^That’s right,” cried Lilian. ^‘Hooray 
for the Flower Candies!” 

The cheer that went up was of the usual 
Dorrance variety, and then they all began 
to talk at once. 

‘‘We must have boxes made,” said Lilian. 
“I’d just as leave paint the gilt letters on 
them, but that’s so home-made looking.” 

“Yes,” agreed Leicester, “if we’re going 
into this thing as a business, we must have 
special boxes, of course. To get these, and the 
necessary things connected with them, and 
to get a lot of materials, will mean spending 
some capital. Can we afford it. Dot?” 

“I think we must,” said Dorothy, speak- 
ing slowly and looking thoughtful. “Our 
funds are pretty low just now, but I think 
this is an investment, — and anyhow, we’re 
going to it !” 

“We’re going to do it!” the four fairly 
yelled in concert; “we’re going to do it! 
We’re going to do it!” 

The vociferousness of this final announce- 
ment of their intention nearly took the roof 
off of the old house, and then they all ran 


182 


DORRANCE DOINGS 


pell-mell up the broad staircase to Grand- 
ma’s room to tell her of their plans. 

Grandma was nearly well now, and sat in 
her big chair by her sunny window, looking 
delicate and fragile, but not ill. 

As the children tumbled in, she looked up 
with her usual calm smile. ‘‘What’s it all 
about she said. 

Although Dorothy was breathless from 
her mad rush up the stairs and through the 
long halls, she plumped herself down on the 
floor at Grandma’s side, and began to ex- 
j)lain. Her breathlessness somewhat im- 
peded her explanation, but she managed to 
utter short, explosive sentences that were to 
a degree intelligible. 

“Perfectly splendid. Grandma, — ” she 
began, “the Flower Candies, — ^liowling suc- 
cess, — sell any amount, — and I’m sure we 
can do it!” 

‘‘SureV^ broke in Leicester, “special 
boxes, — hundreds of ’em, — everlasting for- 
tune, — automobile in sight, — ^whoop ! ” 

Lilian, the practical, had paused in her mad 
upward flight, long enough to catch up a bag 



( ( 


— f f 


PERFECTLY SPLENDID, GRANDMA, 







FLOWER CANDIES 


183 


of peanuts, and these she had already begun 
to shell. It was characteristic of Lilian that 
she was not so breathless as the others, and 
her nimble fingers worked rapidly as she 
talked. ‘^Just what might have been ex- 
pected,’’ she said, with a confident wag of 
her head. ^‘We’re going to succeed, be- 
cause we always do succeed!” 

’Course we’re going to succeed,” chimed 
in Fairy, adding her assurance to the rest. 
Undisturbed by her previous exertions, she 
was now dancing around the room, not nois- 
ily, but on tiptoe, with the airy, skimming 
motion of a butterfly. shall help,” she 
went on; ^ indeed I ’spect I shall do most of 
the work, ’cause I don’t have any lessons to 
do out of school, and you others do.” 

needn’t,” said Leicester. “I can get 
all my lessons in school hours, if I want to, 
and I will. Can’t you, Lilian?” 

‘‘Yes, all but my history lesson, — and I 
can get up a little earlier, and study that 
before breakfast, and I can shell peanuts 
while I’m studying it.” 

“You’ll be so hungry, you’ll eat all the 


184 


DORRANCE DOINGS 


peanuts,’’ said Fairy, ‘‘and they’ll make 
you awful sick, and you’ll have to have a 
trained nurse, and the doctor’ll take your 
temporaryture. ” 

“Listen, people,” said Dorothy, in the 
tone that always announced a serious prop- 
osition. “ I ’ve made up my mind. I thought 
it all out just now, on the way upstairs. I’m 
going to take hold of this candy business, 
not as a little two-cent amateur perform- 
ance, but as a regular, systematic business 
deal. And I mean to conduct it so that it 
will grow as big as — as — ” 

“As the Standard Oil,” suggested Leices- 
ter. 

“Yes, or bigger, ” agreed Dorothy. “Now 
in order to do it and do it properly, I’m go- 
ing to give up school for the rest of this 
term. Wait a minute. Grandma, before you 
say anything. If I do that, I can make a 
success of this candy scheme, and if I don’t, 
I can’t. I won’t give up my lessons en- 
tirely. I shall read history by myself, and 
keep up my practicing, and go on with my 
French with Mrs. Pettit. But I shall de- 


FLOWER CANDIES 


185 


vote my mornings to regular work in my 
candy kitchen, and I can make enough can- 
dy so that we can send it away three times a 
week, or even oftener, if necessary, — and 
then, too, we can keep Kathleen, for I shall 
need steady help, and the other children can 
help after school, and evenings, and then 
you see we can accomplish something. I 
have thought it all out, and it’s a case where 
half-way work will be no work at all. And 
so I have made up my mind, and if any of 
you have anything to say, you may say it, 
but that’s what I’m going to do!^^ 

Dorothy had grown more and more enthu- 
siastic as she talked, and her eyes shone like 
two stars as she announced her final deter- 
mination. 

^^Good for you. Dot,” cried Leicester, 
looking admiringly at his older sister. ‘‘I 
don’t know whether you ought to give up 
your education or not, but I know that if 
you have made up your mind to do so, you’ll 
probably do it.” 

Fairy began to wail. I don’t want Dor- 
othy to grow up an ignoroomerous,” she ex- 


186 


DORRANCE DOINGS 


claimed. think she ought to go to school, 
even if we don’t make so much money.” 

But the interested older children paid lit- 
tle attention to Fairy’s remarks. Already 
Leicester had pencil and paper, and was 
making calculations as to the probable cost 
of boxes. 

Would you have white boxes or fancy 
ones?” he asked. But Dorothy was waiting 
for Grandma’s opinions on the subject in 
hand, for the gentle old lady was in reality 
the final court of appeal, and the children 
were more docile and amenable to her wishes 
than their noisy assertions of independence 
would seem to indicate. 

think, Dorothy, dear, that in this mat- 
ter I shall let you be guided by your own 
wishes. As we have agreed before, the school 
you have been attending is not entirely sat- 
isfactory for you, though it is for the other 
children. And so if you keep up some of 
the more advanced branches of your educa- 
tion, I think you are quite justified in doing 
as you suggest.” 

Even Fairy never interrupted Grandma 


FLOWER CANDIES 


187 


Dorrance when she spoke, but as she paused, 
the four set up a cheer. 

^‘Hooray for the Flower Candies!’’ pro- 
posed Leicester, and it was given with a will. 

think fancy paper boxes would be pret- 
tier than white,” said Lilian, returning to 
the subject under discussion. 

Prettier than white with gilt letters?” 
asked Dorothy doubtfully. 

^^Yes,” answered Lilian, ‘^a pretty design 
in soft light tints, would be more effective, 
and you could have your gilt letters on it 
just the same.” 

Lilian’s taste in such matters as this was 
considered authoritative, and the children 
waited for further description. 

^^The design,” Lilian went on, ought to 
be flowers, of course.” 

“What kind of flowers?” demanded 
Fairy. 

“Not any particular kind,” and Lilian 
closed her eyes, the better to see the boxes 
in her imagination. “Just variegated little 
flowers of any kind, sprinkled over a white 
ground.” 


188 


DORRANCE DOINGS 


course, we can’t have a special design 
made,” said Dorothy, ^‘but we’ll go to the 
box place, and they’ll probably have the 
right kind of paper to make it of. And then 
we’ll just have ‘Flower Candies’ on top, in 
gilt letters.” 

“Yes,” agreed Lilian, “but not written 
diagonally across, in big sprawly letters. I 
say have three words, ^The Flotver Candies/ 
one right under the other, in the upper left- 
hand corner.” 

“Most distinctive and effective!” ap- 
proved Leicester, in a grandiloquent tone. 
“Lilian, you’re an artist. You shall have 
all to say about the make-up of those boxes. 
Let’s take a holiday tomorrow, and go to 
New York to order them.” 

“Let’s,” said Dorothy, “and we must or- 
der lots of materials, too. Perhaps we’d 
better open an account with Park & Til- 
ford.” 

“Don’t go too fast. Dot,” warned Leices- 
ter. 

“That isn’t going too fast. It’s cheaper 
to buy things in large quantities, and of 


FLOWER CANDIES 


189 


course we must have the best possible mate- 
rials. And while I’d just as lieve pay cash, 
yet if we have an account, we can order 
things by mail at any time, and have them 
come right out by express.” 

Great head!” cried Leicester. ‘‘Mis- 
tress Dorothy, you’re an accomplished and 
intellectual business woman. I’d take off 
my hat to you, if I had it on, and I am proud 
and pleased to offer you my escort to the 
great metropolis. Let’s go tomorrow morn- 
ing, on the early train.” 

“I want to go too,” shouted Fairy, as she 
danced about. “I want to go too! Can I 
go ? Will you take me ? I want to go too ! 
I wa-a-ant to go to-o-o-o!” 

“They wouldn’t take such a noisy child 
on the train,” declared Leicester. “If you 
do go, you’ll have to have a handkerchief 
tied over your mouth.” 

“Oh, I’ll be quiet,” cried Fairy. “I’ll 
be as still as a little teeny, weeny mouse. I 
won’t scream or holler once, and I’ll walk as 
slow — as slow as a rhinosserhorse. Can I 
go? Can I go? Can I goV 


190 


DORRANCE DOINGS 


course you can go, Poppet,’’ replied 
Leicester, a little absent-mindedly as be was 
adding up a column of figures. say. Dot, 
just to buy this list of sugar and nuts and 
things that you’ve made out, Avill cost an 
awful lot of money.” 

‘‘That’s the worst of it,” said Dorothy 
with a little sigh, “but truly. Less, it will be 
all right, and if it isn’t — ^why, we’ve got to 
do it anyway! Don’t you see, our opportu- 
nity has come to us, and we must take it, re- 
gardless of difficulties. Of course we may 
fail — but we %von’tV^ 

“Yes, that’s all very well. Dot, and I guess 
1 know we won’t fail just as well as you do, 
but what I mean is, where are we going to 
get the actual money to spend tomorrow? 
The quarterly allowance from Mr. Lloyd 
won’t come until the first of April, and 
that’s two months away, and besides, we’ll 
need it all to pay the nurse’s and the doc- 
tor’s bills. And of course we can’t take the 
regular house-keeping money.” 

“I know it,” said Dorothy, “and I 
thought that out too.” Her face flushed a 


FLOWER CANDIES 


191 


little, but slie stood lier ground bravely. 

I’m going to borrow it from Mrs. Faulk- 
ner.” 

^‘Borrow!” exclaimed Leicester in a tone 
of surprised disapproval. 

^^Now wait a minute, Less,” broke in Dor- 
othy, ‘‘before you say anything more. I 
don’t like the idea of borrowing a bit better 
than you do, but I look at it this way. Mrs. 
Faulkner has been so truly kind and good to 
me, that I don’t mind asking her one bit. 
And it isn’t as if I were borrowing money 
for some pleasure or foolishness. I’m 
really only asking her to advance the capital 
necessary for a business which she approves 
of and believes in. If it succeeds, I shall 
pay back her loan with our first profits ; and 
if we fail — ” Dorothy’s voice quivered a lit- 
tle, but she went steadily on, “if we fail, I 
would rather owe the money to her, than to 
anyone in the world, not only because she is 
so rich that of course the sum is a mere noth- 
ing to her — but because she is so truly my 
friend, that she Avill perfectly understand 
all the circumstances.” 


192 


DORRANCE DOINGS 


^^You^re a brick, Dot,’’ said Leicester, 
fully in sympathy with his sister’s ideas. 
‘^And besides, it’s a great deal better plan 
to borrow the money from Mrs. Faulkner, 
than to run in debt to a strange merchant. 
For, if necessary, Mrs. Faulkner will wait 
for the repayment of her loan, and it shall be 
paid eventually,” Leicester unconsciously 
straightened himself — ‘^even if this candy 
scheme shouldn’t succeed, but the grocer 
man would not be so friendly in the matter.” 

‘‘You have the right ideas,” came Grand- 
ma Dorrance’s approving voice, “and you 
are brave, noble children. I haven’t the 
slightest doubt of your success in this new 
plan, and I fully appreciate the loving effort 
you are making.” 

“Hooray for Grandma!” cried Fairy, and 
they all responded with enthusiasm to this 
popular sentiment. 


CHAPTER XIV 

A DORRANCE SUCCESS 

L ike everything else that Dorothy Dor- 
rance undertook, she began her new 
work in a methodical and systematic 

way. 

Mrs. Faulkner, as Dorothy had anticipa- 
ted, had been more than willing to advance 
the money required, and had gone with the 
four children to make definite arrangements 
with the caterer. 

Mr. Mills was a shrewd business man, and 
seeing the youthfulness of the principals 
with whom he had to deal, was inclined to 
drive a sharp bargain. 

But Mrs. Faulkner had the Dorrance in- 
terests at heart, and would not agree to any- 
thing less than the high prices she had at 
first suggested. 

Unwilling to offend one of his best cus- 
tomers, and also realizing that if the new 
193 


194 


DOKRANCE DOINGS 


candies proved a popular success it would be 
to his advantage to be the only agent for 
their sale, Mr. Mills at length agreed to 
Mrs. Faulkner’s terms. The thought of 
these high rates for her wares nearly took 
Dorothy’s breath away, but she maintained 
an outward calm, and merely resolved in 
her own heart to spare no effort to make her 
candies the very best in the world, and there- 
fore worth the high price. 

The other children behaved with the po- 
lite decorum which was their habit when 
anywhere except under their o^vn home roof. 

Leicester’s business-like air was manly 
without being forward or consequential. 
He assumed a brotherly charge of Dorothy, 
but deferred always to her opinions and de- 
cisions. 

Lilian said very little, but what she did 
say was always indicative of such good com- 
mon-sense that Mr. Mills more than once 
looked at her with a nod of increasing re- 
spect. 

As for Fairy, she covered herself with 
glory by saying absolutely nothing at all. 


A DOKRANCE SUCCESS 195 

A satisfactory contract having been de- 
cided upon and the conference closed, Mr. 
Mills invited Mrs. Faulkner and her four 
young friends to partake of entertainment 
in his luncheon parlor. 

This invitation pleased the Dorrances ex- 
ceedingly, seeing which, Mrs. Faulkner ad- 
vised its acceptance. 

A delightful repast was set before them, 
and though the elated children tried to be 
very quiet and subdued, they chatted and 
laughed merrily as they enjoyed Mr. Mills’ 
hospitality. 

Dorothy looked thoughtfully at the ex- 
quisitely made and daintily served ices, jel- 
lies and cakes. 

^^My candies,” she said, ^‘must be as per- 
fect in their way as these lovely things are.” 

^^And they will be,” said Mrs. Faulkner, 
smiling at the girl’s anxious face. 

‘‘And they shall be,” declared Dorothy, 
with an answering smile at her friend. 

After luncheon they went to see about the 
boxes, and had no difficulty in selecting a 
pattern that pleased all. 


196 


DORRANCE DOINGS 


The boxes were to be square, as a change 
from the usual oblong shape, and were to be 
covered with a flowered paper in a dainty 
Dresden design, with the lettering in the 
corner, as Lilian had suggested. 

Two hundred were ordered as a first con- 
signment, with a promise of slightly reduced 
rates on future orders. 

Then they went to the great grocery shop 
and Dorothy selected a long list of such 
fruits, nuts and flavorings as she desired, to- 
gether with a large supply of various kinds 
of sugar. 

‘‘I have a book,” she explained to Mrs. 
Faulkner, ^‘that contains directions for all 
kinds of candies, even the most elaborate. 
I’m going to study it very carefully, and 
though at first I shall use only the simpler 
recipes, I shall go on until I can make them 
all, even to the grained sugar Birds of Para- 
dise, with spun sugar tails.” 

‘M’m sure you can do it, dear,” said Mrs. 
Faulkner, encouragingly, ^‘but go slowly, 
and remember that chocolates and hon-hons 
of a uniform excellence are always salable, 


A DORRANCE SUCCESS 


197 


while perhaps your Birds of Paradise would 
only meet an occasional demand.’^ 

Dorothy nodded thoughtfully as she 
stored this idea away in her memory for fu- 
ture use. 

When the children reached home late that 
afternon, they flew into the Flower Folly 
with wild yells of joy. 

Leicester stood in a certain spot in the 
hall, which, by reason of the winding of the 
staircase through three stories, gave un- 
broken space to the top of the house. It was 
his delight on special occasions to stand here 
and throw his cap straight up to the roof of 
the house, and try to catch it on his head as 
it came down. He had never yet succeeded 
in doing this, as the cap usually landed on 
one of the upper floors, but he always had 
hopes of success, and besides, the effort 
served as an outlet for his exuberant glad- 
ness of spirit. 

Fairy, after her long day of pent-up en- 
thusiasm, danced around the house like a 
veritable sprite, singing her favorite song 
to a tune of her own composition. Her fa- 


198 


DOREANCE DOINGS 


vorite song was the following classic ditty, 
which deserves to be well known, whether it 
already is or not : 

They didnT have a penny, 

And they couldnT borrow any, 

And they owed exactly half a dime for coal ; 

So they thought they’d run away, 

When a goose came out to say, 

‘ You must pay two cents apiece all ’round for 
toll! ” 

This historic family, Fairy always de- 
clared, were really worse off than the Dor- 
rances, and she never ceased wondering how 
they ever got out of the fearful predicament 
in which the tale left them. 

Grandma was of course much interested 
in hearing of the events of the day, and as 
she heard four versions which were more or 
less alike, and often simultaneously related, 
she gathered a pretty accurate account of 
their doings in the city. 

That very evening they began the real 
work. Unwilling to wait for the boxes of 
goods which would arrive the next day, they 


A DORRANCE SUCCESS 


199 


brought with them numerous packages of 
nuts, raisins, and chocolate in order that 
they might have something to work on. 

Leicester was an expert nut cracker, and 
cracked them so carefully that the girls 
with their deft fingers and sharp nut-picks, 
could easily extract the kernels unbroken. 

Dorothy’s directions were insistent on this 
point. Never a broken kernel should ap- 
pear in the Flower Candies, where an un- 
broken one was desired. So such as were 
accidentally broken, were put in another re- 
ceptacle to be used in confections calling for 
chopped nuts. 

This grade of carefulness Dorothy ex- 
acted in every particular. The slightest im- 
perfection in nut or fruit rendered it unfit 
for use, where perfection of appearance was 
called for. But Dorothy’s natural instinct 
for economy often made it possible to utilize 
these pieces in some other candies. Cocoa- 
nut and chocolate must be grated just ex- 
actly right. Sifted sugar must be sifted 
many times, until not the faintest suspicion 
of a lump marred the heap of beautiful. 


200 


DORRANCE DOINGS 


white dust. Eaisins and fruits must be 
seeded with the utmost care, and Dorothy 
said that even the breaking of an egg could 
be done in two ways, the right way, and the 
wrong way. 

Indeed, Dorothy’s success was in a large 
part due to her excessive care in these mat- 
ters. She did her work on the principle 
that if every tiny part is perfect the whole 
will be perfect. 

Among the rooms not in actual use at the 
Flower Folly, it was not difficult to find one 
well adapted to be what Dorothy called the 
candy shop. 

A large room on the first floor, with four 
pleasant, sunny windows was chosen. 

Leicester wanted to send up to the Do- 
main for several tables, but Dorothy ob- 
jected, saying that the transportation would 
be expensive, and though they might con- 
clude to do it later, for the present they 
would get along with some tables of their 
own construction. 

So saw-horses and some long planks were 
rented from the village carpenter, and these 


A DORRANCE SUCCESS 201 

were covered frequently with fresh sheets 
of white paper. 

The next morning Dorothy went to work 
in earnest. Though the other children were 
splendid help in preparing the materials, 
when it came to the actual making of the 
candy, Dorothy preferred to do it alone. 
For she made most of her fine confections 
by boiling the sugar, and this process, even 
after considerable experience, is always at- 
tended by a certain degree of nervous anx- 
iety. 

Dorothy had studied it thoroughly, and 
practiced it much, and she was familiar with 
the seven degrees from the ‘thread’’ to the 
“caramel.’^ But she well knew that even a 
second’s inattention or an instant’s forget- 
fulness might irrevocably spoil a whole ket- 
tle-full of boiling sugar. 

Kathleen was allowed to assist her from 
the beginning, for Dorothy realized what a 
help the capable woman could become after 
some training. The first morning, she 
watched without a word as Dorothy boiled 
and tested the sugar; she noted the quick- 


202 DOKRANCE DOINGS 

ness and care necessary at the critical mo- 
ment, and she soon learned to help intelli- 
gently, and became just the sort of an as- 
sistant that Dorothy had need of. She 
learned to imitate Dorothy’s careful preci- 
sion, and her quick wits enabled her to antici- 
pate Dorothy’s wants, and be ready always 
to hand her the ingredients or the utensils 
that might be required. 

Thus, owing to Dorothy’s systematic re- 
gime, everything went well from the first. 
To be sure, there were occasional accidents 
of one kind or another, but these were 
treated as such and not allowed to affect or 
interfere with the routine. 

When the children came in from school, 
and saw for the first time the succession of 
tin pans filled with neat regular rows of 
flawless candies, they burst into shouts of 
delighted excitement. 

‘‘I knew it would be great. Dot,” ex- 
claimed Leicester, ‘^but Jiminetty Crickets! 
I didn’t think they’d look like that! Why, 
Mills & Martin never had such candies on 
their counters before — that I’m sure of! 


A DORRANCE SUCCESS 203 

And what a lot of them! You must have 
worked like a house afire ! ’ ’ 

Kathleen helped me,’’ said Dorothy, 
beaming with pride at her brother’s praise, 
for the Dorrances eared more for each 
other’s opinions, than for the compliments 
of an outsider. 

‘^What can we do to help'?” asked Lilian, 
who had fiung ofi her hat and coat and was 
all ready for work. 

‘^There’s plenty to do,” replied Dorothy, 
‘‘but I’ll tell you this. Twins, as a rule you’re 
not to work in here after being in school all 
day. You can help some in the evenings, 
and Saturdays, but after school you must 
run outdoors and get some fresh air.” 

“So must you, then,” said Lilian, “you’ve 
been working all day.” 

“Yes, I know it, but we won’t get into 
regular routine order for the first few days. 
Next week it will all go on like clock work, 
but now, we’ll all do a little extra. So sup- 
pose we go right to work, putting these can- 
dies in the boxes.” 

“Have the boxes come?” asked Leicester. 


204 


DORRANCE DOINGS 


‘^ni unpack them,” and without waiting 
for an answer, he ran, whistling, for a ham- 
mer, and then began to pry open the great 
wooden packing-case that held the candy 
boxes. 

How pretty they did look, the dainty little 
flowered affairs, piled up in such quantities. 
Fairy and Lilian carried them in by armfuls, 
and stacked them neatly on a table in the cor- 
ner of the candy shop. 

afraid they’re almost too soft to 
pack,” debated Dorothy, delicately pinch- 
ing one bon-bon by way of a test. 

‘‘Then,” said the ingenious Lilian, “we’ll 
just pack the lowest layer in each box, and 
let them harden a bit more. Then this even- 
ing we can pack the others.” 

“Good idea!” said Dorothy, “you have a 
level head, Lilian, and we can put in our 
time this afternoon cutting papers, for we 
shall have to have a lot of them.” 

“What kind of papers?” cried Fairy. 
“I can cut papers. Let me cut ’em. Let 
me cut ’em! Let me cut ’em!” 

“If you had six brothers and sisters, 


A DORRANCE SUCCESS 


205 


Fairy,’’ said Leicester, '‘would you say 
everything six times instead of three?” 

"I s’pose I would,” said Fairy, compla- 
cently. "Let me cut ’em, will you. Dot? 
Will you? Will you let me cut ’em?” 

"Yes, of course,” assented Dorothy gaily, 
not at all annoyed by Fairy’s repetitions. 
"Here’s a pattern. Baby. Cut them care- 
fully, just exactly this size and shape.” 

Under Dorothy’s instructions, the sheets 
of waxed paper were cut just to fit the boxes, 
for they were to be placed between the layers 
of candies. 

All of this was great fun, but Dorothy re- 
minded the others that the fun was largely 
due to the novelty of the work, and that af- 
ter they had cut thousands of papers apiece, 
it wouldn’t seem such a humorous proceed- 
ing. 

"Pooh! we know that,” scoffed Leicester, 
good-naturedly, "but you see, my long-suf- 
fering sister, we’re not in this game for fun 
only. By the time we have cut thousands of 
papers, we ought to have made ’most a dol- 
lar and a half profit, I think.” 


206 


DORRANCE DOINGS 


That’s the way to look at it,” said Dor- 
othy. course, if we four are together, 

we can’t help having fun, but even if the 
work grows tiresome, we’ll have the fun of 
knowing that we’re doing something to help 
pay our family expenses, and to help Grand- 
ma take care of her four bothersome grand- 
children. ’ ’ 

^^Yes,” answered Leicester, ‘that’s fun 
enough for anybody, and I’m jolly glad we 
can do it.” 

^‘Me, too,” said Lilian. 

‘‘Me, too,” said Fairy. 


CHAPTER XV 

JENNY STAER 

A S Dorothy had prophesied, after a week 
or two the candy business was run- 
ning smoothly and systematically. 
Every morning Dorothy and Kathleen 
spent in the candy shop,’^ and while no 
work was done there in the afternoon, the 
children almost always gathered there in the 
evening, and spent an hour, at least, in pre- 
paring materials for the next day’s use. 

Dorothy’s energy and carefulness were 
unremitting. The work was always done in 
accordance with her original standards of 
perfection, and gradually developed into 
what is rightly called skilled labor. 

Soon the results of the work began to 
come in, and were decidedly gratifying. 

Dorothy and Leicester kept the accounts 
very carefully, and their actual profits 

steadily increased from week to week. They 
207 


208 


DORRANCE DOINGS 


were by no means making a fortune, but the 
returns were all that could be expected and 
even more than they had dared hope for. 

Dorothy often invented original combina- 
tions for novel sorts of sweets, and these 
proved extremely popular with Mr. Mills’s 
capricious customers. 

Lilian was ingenious in matters of ar- 
rangement and decoration. It was she who 
suggested special boxes for use on St. Valen- 
tine’s day. These dainty affairs decorated 
with appropriate emblems could be sold at 
higher prices than the regular stock, and 
proved a wise investment. Thus encour- 
aged, Lilian suggested special souvenir 
boxes for St. Patrick’s day, April Pool’s 
day, and all such occasions usually noticed 
by city caterers. 

The candy shop had assumed an attract- 
iveness which made it quite as delightful as 
their favorite living-room. 

Lilian’s instinctive talent for home- 
making had moved her to decorate and fur- 
nish the room in a jolly, comfortable way, 
that yet did not interfere with Dorothy’s 


JENNY STARR 


209 


work-room effects. A shelf had been put up 
all around the walls, at a height just above 
the children’s heads, to hold the boxes. All 
of the wood-work in the room, as also the 
walls, had been painted white, and with 
white dimity sash-curtains and window- 
draperies, the whole place presented a spick- 
and-span air most appropriate to a well or- 
dered candy kitchen. An old sofa and sev- 
eral easy chairs were covered with neat linen 
slip-covers, and several rush-bottomed chairs 
completed the furnishings. 

Quite naturally and without a thought as 
of going to work, the family congregated 
here after dinner and almost unconsciously 
cracked nuts or seeded fruits as they chat- 
ted merrily over the day’s doings. 

Even Grandma Dorrance delighted to 
shell peanuts while she listened to the gay 
fun of her hilarious young people. 

Often, too, their friends dropped in to 
spend an evening, and though Dorothy 
would have preferred that work should be 
laid aside on such occasions, the young vis- 
itors greatly enjoyed an hour or two in the 


210 


DORRANCE DOINGS 


candy shop and insisted on helping with the 
task in hand. 

One evening a jolly crowd was gathered 
there around the fire. Nearly every room 
in the Folly had an open fireplace, and the 
one in the candy shop proved to be most 
useful, especially in the matter of burning 
up nutshells and such things. 

As was often the case, Phil and Ted Pet- 
tit were among the group, and Peggy Pike’s 
rosy face was beaming with fun as her nim- 
ble fingers fiew. ^‘It’s surely going to snow 
tonight,” said Ted Pettit, ‘‘and if it does it 
will spoil the skating.” 

“But it will make sleighing,” suggested 
Dorothy, “if it only snows hard enough 
for the ground is good and hard.’ ’ 

“That’s better yet,” affirmed Phil Pettit, 
“I say, Dorothy, these are great moonlight 
nights, if there’s good sleighing, let’s have a 
sleighing party over to Danbury Hill. 
We’ll get a box-sleigh — two, maybe, and 
Mother will go with us, I’m sure. Will you 
go, Dorothy?” 

Although Phil was presumably inviting 


JENNY STAER 


211 


the whole crowd, he looked only to Dorothy 
for an answer. 

‘‘Yes, indeed,’’ she replied, smiling at the 
young man, without a trace of self-con- 
sciousness. “We’ll all be glad to go, but 
first catch your snow.” 

“Oh,” said Peggy, with a little shiver, “I 
do hate cold weather. Of course. I’ll go on 
your old sleighing-party, but I wish it was 
summer time, and we were going on a picnic 
instead.” 

“Picnics are jolly fun,” put in Leicester, 
“but sleigh-rides to my mind are, too. 
We’ll wrap you up in a buffalo robe, Peggy, 
and you’ll be so warm, you’ll think it’s 
Fourth of July.” 

“Oh, look at that!” cried Peggy, sud- 
denly. And as she pointed toward the win- 
dow, her rosy face turned white, as if with 
sudden fear. “I saw a face,” she went on, 
“a terrible, white face, glaring in at the win- 
dow.” 

“Nonsense,” said Leicester, “that’s our 
pet ghost. Lilian sees it every once in a 
while, and so does Dorothy, but it has never 


212 


DORRANCE DOINGS 


seemed willing to show itself to me. I think 
girls must have very vivid imaginations.’’ 

^‘It wasn’t imagination,” protested Peg- 
gy, ‘‘and it wasn’t a ghost, either. It was 
the face of a real person, and a miserable 
looking specimen of one at that.” 

“Oh, pshaw, Peggy,” said Ted, “your 
eyes are dazzled by the firelight, and what 
you really saw, was the full moon trying to 
get in at the window and shell peanuts with 
us. I don’t blame the moon for wanting to 
come in, but I’m not sure that it can be ar- 
ranged.” 

“Nonsense, Ted!” cried Peggy, “don’t be 
silly. I tell you it was a real face, and it 
scared me ’most to pieces.” 

“Don’t look out of that window any 
more,” advised Leicester. “If you must 
gaze out into the night, try some other win- 
dow, or go and stand in the front door for a 
while. I’ll open it for you.” 

Peggy did not reply to this banter, but as 
she glanced again, somewhat fearfully, at 
the same window, she gave another little 
scream, and pointed with her finger. 


JENNY STARK 


213 


The children turned quickly to look in 
that direction, and Leicester jumped up 
crying, ‘‘Jimminy, hoys, there is somebody 
there!’’ 

He flung open the window, and jumped 
out so quickly that any intruder would have 
had small chance of getting away from him, 
but as he landed on the ground outside, he 
saw a dark figure running swiftly down the 
hill. Without pausing, after he had gained 
his balance, he dashed after it, and being 
himself a swift runner, soon caught up with 
the fugitive. 

Even before he reached her, he saw it was 
a girl, with a dark shawl over her head and 
around her shoulders. So instead of shout- 
ing at her, he grasped her arm firmly, but 
not ungently, and said: ^‘Who are you, and 
why do you come stealthily like that, and 
frighten my sisters and my friends?” 

The girl turned her white face to him, and 
Leicester saw that it was indeed a sad and 
pathetic countenance. 

By this time the Pettit boys came running 
to them, inquiring what it all meant. 


214 


DORRANCE DOINGS 


Thus brought to bay, the girl began to cry, 
saying: 

‘‘Please, I didn’t mean no harm, but I 
don’t never have no good times of my own, 
and so I go and look in at you having your 
good times. I’m sorry I frightened any- 
body. I didn’t mean to. I goes ’most every 
night, but mostly the blinds are shut, and I 
can peek through the slats. Only once or 
twice, I’m afraid the young ladies saw me. 
That made me sorry, and I thought I 
wouldn’t go any more, but please — I can^t 
keep away. It’s so beautiful to see you all 
in there, so warm and happy and enjoying 
yourselves. I never has no good times ex- 
cept for that.” 

The sad white face of the girl as she told 
this woeful story, was too much for Leices- 
ter’s tender heart, and he said: 

“Good gracious, that’s the worst I ever 
heard ! You come right along back with me, 
and my sisters will see that you have one 
good time, anyway.” 

“Yes, come on,” echoed Ted Pettit, “and 
explain to the girls what scared them.” 


JENNY STARR 


215 


The stranger drew her old shawl closer 
about her, and seemed to hesitate. 

ain’t fit to go into the likes of that 
house,” she said. 

Never mind that,” answered Leicester, 
^^you just come along.” 

They escorted the girl back to the house, 
where the others, who had been watching 
from the window, ran to the door to meet 
them. 

Don’t frighten her,” whispered Leices- 
ter to Dorothy, as they went in. She’s a 
lot more scared than you are.” 

Dorothy’s kind heart intuitively grasped 
the situation, and she drew the girl’s arm 
within her own as she led her into the candy 
kitchen and seated her comfortably on a 
sofa. 

Don’t be afraid,” she reassured her, see- 
ing the pale, thin face with its big, fright- 
ened eyes. ^ ^ Do you live near here ? What 
is your name?” 

Encouraged by Dorothy’s gentle manner 
the girl ceased trembling, and said in a low 
voice, ‘^My name is Jenny Starr, and I live 


216 


DORRANCE DOINGS 


a long ways up the hill road. We’re very 
poor, and my stepfather is cruel to me and 
sometimes beats me. But every evening af- 
ter my work is done, I run down here and 
look in your windows to see you having a 
good time. I’m awfully sorry I frightened 
you, and if you’ll forgive me I’ll promise 
never to come again.” 

Starr?” queried Phil Pettit, ‘‘I’ve lived 
here all my life, and I never heard that name 
before.” 

“No, sir,” answered Jenny, meekly, 
“we’ve only lived here a short time, about 
three months, and my stepfather’s name 
isn’t Starr, it’s Phipps. We live in that 
little house on the edge of the Eobertson 
place.” 

“Oh, Phipps,” said Phil, “yes, I guess I 
know the man.” He was about to add, “and 
I know no good of him,” but refrained 
from expressing his opinion. 

With her usual kindness and tact, Doro- 
thy soon put poor Jeny quite at her ease, and 
then taking her to the big, comfortable 
kitchen where Kathleen and Tessie were sit- 


JENNY STARR 


217 


ting, she asked them to give the girl some 
supper. 

iWhen she returned to the others she found 
them of varying opinions. 

^ ^They’re a had lot,” Ted Pettit was say- 
ing, ^^and I advise you people to have noth- 
ing at all to do with them.” 

Wait a minute, Ted,” put in Peggy, ‘‘the 
Phipps are a had lot, hut Jenny Starr isn’t 
his daughter, and she’s not like the others. 
For my part I feel awfully sorry for her, and 
I wish we could help her somehow.” 

“I wish so too,” said Leicester. “I tell 
you, fellows, she made me feel mighty sad.” 

“I have a plan,” announced Dorothy, “I 
thought it all out as I was coming hack from 
the kitchen.” 

They all laughed at this, hut Dorothy’s 
quick decisions were usually thought out hy 
the instantaneous method. 

“You see,” she went on, “we’ve had a lot 
of letters lately, asking for our Flower Can- 
dies. I was undecided what to reply, for it 
didn’t seem to me that we could make them 
any faster than we are now doing. But I 


218 


DORRANCE DOINGS 


would be glad to enlarge the business, and of 
course that means having more help. Now, 
I don’t see why we can’t take this Jenny 
right in, and I’m sure I could train her to be 
a good worker.” 

‘‘I think you could, Dorothy,” Peggy 
agreed, she’s a queer girl, but I believe 
she’d try hard to do as you want her to do, 
and I believe, too, she’d succeed.” 

‘‘Of course,” said Phil, “if she comes into 
the Dorrance household, she’ll have to suc> 
ced. She’ll simply be a part of the regula- 
tion Dorrance success. But be careful, Dor- 
othy, not to act on an impulse, and be sorry 
afterwards. I think you’d better cultivate 
her acquaintance a little further before you 
deliberately take her into your family.” 

“Not exactly into my family,” corrected 
Dorothy, smiling at Phil, “but into my 
household. What do you think. Grandma % ’ ’ 

“I think your idea’s a good one. I no- 
ticed Jenny closely, and I think she is a 
worthy girl, fettered by unfortunate circum- 
stances. I have thought for some time, 
Dorothy, that you ought to have more help 


JENNY STARR 


219 


in your candy work, and Jenny would be 
glad to work all day, and every day, for it 
would seem to her like play after the hard 
work she has been doing. But don’t decide 
it tonight. Give her some candy or fruit to 
take home with her, and ask her to come and 
see us about it tomorrow.” 

Dorothy did just as Grandma advised, and 
J enny Starr trudged home happier than she 
had ever been before in her life, as she ex- 
ulted over Dorothy’s kind words and gener- 
ous gifts. 

^‘Well,” said Lilian, as Dorothy joined 
them again, ^^my mind is relieved to have 
that mysterious face explained. But it’s a 
little disappointing to discover that what I 
thought was a weird and uncanny ghost- 
person, was nothing at all but an ordinary 
human neighbor.” 

‘^And lucky for us, too!” exclaimed 
Peggy Pike. ^‘If Leicester and the other 
boys had gone out there and fetched in a real 
ghost I, for one, should have gone into hys- 
terics at the sight.” 

"'I wouldn’t,” declared Fairy, would 


220 


DORRANCE DOINGS 


have gone straight up to the ghost, and 
pinched it to see what it was made out of.’’ 

‘‘Well you seem to have lost your chance 
at the Flower Folly ghost,” said Ted, “but 
if you’re hunting for mysteries there’s still 
the lost statue, you know. Why don’t you 
find that?” 

“Oh, an old marble statue isn’t half as 
much fun as a ghost,” answered Dorothy. 

“No,” said Leicester, “but you don’t get 
any reward for discovering the ghost, and 
you do for the statue. I’m going to find 
that thing yet!” 


CHAPTER XVI 

A PICNIC 

T he snowstorm that Phil Pettit so 
much desired did not arrive, and 
though the weather was crisp and 
wintry, there was no sleighing. 

‘HPs too bad,’’ Ted said to Dorothy, one 
day when they were all out skating, ‘‘that 
there isn’t any snow, for next Saturday is 
Peggy’s birthday, and it would have been 
good fun to have a big sleigh-ride to cele- 
brate the occasion.” 

“Good fun for the rest of us,” replied 
Dorothy, laughing, “but as for Peggy, I’m 
sure she would rather have a party in the 
house. She just hates cold weather.” 

“A picnic is the thing that Peggy really 
loves best,” mused Ted, “but this isn’t ex- 
actly the right kind of weather for picnics.” 
“Yes, it is,” laughed Dorothy, struck with 
221 


222 


DORRANCE DOINGS 


a sudden thought, you only have the 
right kind of a picnic.’’ 

‘‘Perhaps you mean a picnic to Florida or 
Bermuda.” 

“No, I don’t, but I’ll tell you what I do 
mean. I mean a picnic in the house, a real 
picnic, you know, only not out of doors.” 

“Sounds lovely,” said Ted, “but I don’t 
quite understand.” 

“Why, this way. You know that great, 
big, immense ball-room up on the top floor 
of the Folly. I mean, let’s turn that into a 
picnic ground, and have a picnic up there.” 

“Oho!” cried Ted, “I begin to see. You 
mean carry up trees and things, and make it 
look like out-doors. Can you heat that 
great barn of a place?” 

“Yes, an extra big Are in the furnace will 
make it warm enough. Come on home with 
me, and we’ll talk it over with the others.” 

Their skates were soon off, and they hur- 
ried homeward full of their merry plans. 

When they reached the Folly and dis- 
closed their new scheme to the others it was 
hailed with great applause. 


A PICNIC 


223 


^ ^ Great ! ’ ’ exclaimed Leicester. ^ ‘ Wliy, 
Dot, we want to fix things up about like the 
roof-garden at the Domain. We’ll carry up 
trees and evergreen branches and your pot- 
ted palms, until we have a regular grove.” 

^^Yes,” said Lilian, ‘‘and I’ll make paper 
fiowers to fasten on the trees, so it will look 
gay and pretty.” 

“We’ll keep it secret from Peggy,” said 
Dorothy, “and surprise her. We’ll have 
the picnic Saturday afternoon, and we can 
fix the place up Friday night and Saturday 
morning. ’ ’ 

“I think,” said Leicester, “I can rig a 
sort of pulley outside that window under 
the eaves, and then we’ll have a rope with a 
basket on each end.” 

“Like buckets in a well — ^like buckets in a 
well,” shouted Fairy, who was dancing 
round in a wild state of excitement at the 
prospect. 

“Yes, and then we can put the trees and 
things in them, and haul them up with no 
trouble at all. And I say. Dot,” went on 
Leicester, “we can put up a hanmiock, and a 


224 DORRANCE DOINGS 

swing, and make it just like a real picnic.” 

^^And we can take those boards and saw- 
horses up from the candy shop, to eat off of, 
and that will be more like a picnic than 
ever.” 

There was much further discussion of 
ways and means, and everybody warned 
everybody else to be very careful lest Peggy 
should discover the secret. 

Dorothy wrote the invitations that very 
evening, and asked about a dozen girls and 
boys, including Peggy herself, to come to a 
picnic at Flower Polly the next Saturday. 
The invitations which were greatly admired 
when they were received, were written on 
sheets of paper which Lilian decorated with 
tiny sketches of summery design, such as a 
fan, a parasol, a spray of roses or a glass of 
iced lemonade. 

The moment Peggy received hers, she 
came flying over to the Folly to know what 
it all meant. 

^‘You can’t know,” said Dorothy, ‘^and 
you musn’t ask, because the picnic is a sur- 
prise party for your birthday, and you must 


A PICNIC 


225 


go right straight home, and stay there until 
Saturday afternoon.’’ 

This was hard on Peggy, hut she went 
away laughingly insisting that she would get 
even with them yet. 

To get ready for the picnic was really a 
good deal of an undertaking, but there were 
many energetic workers at Flower Folly, 
and Saturday morning several of the in- 
vited guests, although they were warned not 
to appear before the appointed time, came 
over to help in any way they could. 

Leicester’s pulley contrivance worked 
beautifully, and almost all the burdens 
which would otherwise have had to be car- 
ried up three flights of stairs, were easily 
hoisted aloft in his big baskets. 

The ball-room at the Folly was so large 
that it admirably served its purpose as a 
picnic ground. 

They sanded the floor, as the nearest pos- 
sible approach to Mother Earth, and here 
and there placed some green rugs, which 
they fondly fancied looked like grass. 

Leicester cleverly arranged an old tree 


226 


DORRANCE DOINGS 


stump in one corner, and Ted Pettit insisted 
on building a small hay mow in another. 

‘‘This isn’t a farm-yard,” exclaimed Dor- 
othy, as she beheld Ted’s achievement. 

“That doesn’t matter,” he replied, airily. 
“A hay-mow looks countrified and summery, 
and so it’s the proper thing to have at a pic- 
nic.” 

Numerous small hemlock trees, palms, 
and great fir branches were ranged round 
the wall, and regardless of realism Lilian 
decorated these with pink, yellow, red and 
even blue paper roses. 

“But there is one thing lacking,” she said. 
“It breaks my heart not to have any brook 
or pond in this woodland scene. I never 
heard of a picnic without some water near 
by.’^ 

“How would an imitation pond do?” 
asked Ted, thoughtfully. 

“Much better than nothing,” said Lilian. 

“Then perhaps I can help you to a small 
one,” and without further explanation, Ted 
went flying down the stairs. 

He soon returned with two or three of the 


A PICNIC 


227 


other boys. They carried an immense pier- 
glass, that usually hung in one of the halls. 

‘^Look out,” cried Ted, as they entered, 
^^here comes your pond.” 

Lilian gave a shriek of delight, for she in- 
stantly grasped its artistic possibilities. 

Acting under her direction, the boys 
placed the pond on the floor, diagonally 
across a corner of the picnic grounds. Be- 
hind it Lilian grouped some picturesque- 
looking stones, branches of green, and pot- 
ted plants, making a beautiful background. 
The gilt frame of the long mirror she cov- 
ered with green muslin and then with 
branches of evergreen, until it looked like a 
mossy bank all around. 

‘ ^ Oh, I know something ! ’ ’ screamed Fairy, 
and with a wild yell she flew downstairs. 
Back she came with her hands full of toys, 
and in a moment she had dotted the lake 
with tiny ducks and fishes, and as a finish- 
ing touch perched three green paper frogs 
on the bank. 

They all clapped their hands at this addi- 
tion to the lake effect, and Ted declared that 


228 


DORRANCE DOINGS 


all self-respecting fishes always swam on 
top of the water. Then Leicester produced 
a turtle which he placed carefully on a stone 
in the middle of the pond, and Lilian capped 
the climax by quickly fashioning some pa- 
per pond-lilies and lily-pads. When these 
were placed on the surface of the mirror it 
was declared complete, and was considered 
the gem of the whole picnic. 

The boys SATOng a hammock, put up a 
swing and arranged some rustic benches. 

Everything was all ready by noon, and the 
scene was so pretty that the Dorrances were 
advised to keep it there permanently, or for 
a while at least, and not take it all away the 
day after the picnic, as they had expected to 
do. 

The guests were invited for two o’clock, 
and all had been requested to wear summer 
clothes and to pretend in every possible way 
that it was the last week in August, instead 
of the last week in February. 

So, after being unbundled from their 
wraps, the girls were found to be w^earing 
white svimmer dresses with bright ribbons 


A PICNIC 


229 


and large straw shade-hats. The boys, too, 
gave a summer effect by their broad- 
brimmed straw hats decorated with gay col- 
ored bands. 

Peggy was crowned with a wreath of flow- 
ers, as queen of the picnic, and after all the 
guests had arrived, and had gathered in the 
living-room, Dorothy announced that it was 
time to start. So all donned their hats, as 
if going to a real picnic, and Tessie and 
Kathleen brought in well-filled baskets and 
boxes from the kitchen. 

Jenny Starr had been installed in the Dor- 
rance household, just as Dorothy had sug- 
gested. The grateful girl worked willingly 
in the candy kitchen, and her assistance had 
enabled Dorothy to enlarge the scope of her 
business. 

As Phil Pettit had prophesied, J enny was 
a part of the Dorrance success, and her trim 
tidiness as she appeared on the day of the 
picnic was a decided improvement on the 
ragged and forlorn creature who had looked 
in at the Folly windows. 

She looked so wistful as she brought in 


230 DORRANCE DOINGS 

the baskets that Dorothy said kindly, 

Jenny, you may go with us to the picnic, 
and help us carry some of these things.” 

Jenny was delighted, and carrying out the 
spirit of the day Lilian quickly fashioned a 
summer hat from a roll of crinkled tissue 
paper, and tossed it to Jenny to wear. The 
girl’s eyes sparkled as she pinned it on, and 
Lilian’s heart felt that warm gladness which 
is always the result of a kind deed kindly 
performed. 

The boys burdened themselves with the 
heavier boxes and baskets, the girls carried 
light summer wraps and parasols, and two 
by two they started off. 

The road to the picnic was merely a suc- 
cession of halls and staircases, but Leicester, 
who was leading with Peggy, made it longer 
by traversing a round-about way on each 
floor, and at last they reached the picnic 
grounds. 

As the young people entered through the 
broad doorway they expressed their surprise 
and admiration with shouts of delight. 

Nothing like this had ever before been 


A PICNIC 


231 


seen in Sheffield. Lilian’s pond came in for 
its full share of applause, and Phil Pettit, 
producing a bent pin and a string, declared 
he was going fishing. 

The young people wandered about and 
played games and sang songs and made 
merry generally, until Dorothy declared it 
was time for their picnic feast. 

This they were to make ready themselves, 
as it would take away the picnic idea en- 
tirely, to have the assistance of servants, 
though Jenny Starr, to her great satisfac- 
tion, was allowed to help. 

The boys arranged the table of boards and 
saw-horses, with other boards resting on 
kegs for benches. The girls spread the 
cloth, which according to picnic tradition, 
was an old one, and set the table with the few 
dishes found in one of the baskets. 

^^It wouldn’t be any sort of a picnic,” said 
Dorothy, ‘4f we had all the dishes we 
needed. Here are the wooden butter-dishes 
for plates, and here are Japanese paper 
napkins.” 

^Ht’s the most blissful picnic I ever saw!” 


232 


DORRANCE DOINGS 


exclaimed Peggy, who was fairly beaming 
with smiles, ‘^and for the first time in my 
life, I am glad my birthday comes in winter. 
This beats all your old shivering sleigh-rides 
and freezing skating-parties.’’ 

The viands in the baskets were found to 
be of the regulation picnic variety. Sand- 
wiches, hard-boiled eggs, cold chicken and 
pickles, and finally cake and ice cream. 

Lemons were also provided, and the boys 
were invited to make the lemonade, which 
they did in true picnic style. 

‘‘I never heard of such people as you Dor- 
rances,” said Peggy, as she sat on the hay 
mow with a macaroon in one hand and a 
glass of lemonade in the other. ‘‘I believe 
you could do anything!” 

‘^They can!” affirmed Phil. ‘‘They’re 
Doers from Do-ville ! Why, a picnic in win- 
ter time is no trouble to them at all, or they 
could have Christmas on Fourth of July, or 
anything that they happened to think they 
wanted.” 

“Oh, pshaw,” said Dorothy, “it’s no 
credit to us, I’m sure. People can get 


A PICNIC 


233 


everything they want if they only want it 
hard enough, and try hard enough to get it.” 

‘‘Can they^' questioned Phil seriously, 
and almost involuntarily, as he looked at 
Dorothy. 

But not seeing his glance at her, she 
turned away to answer a merry jest of some- 
one else, and Phil held his peace. 

After the feast was over they all sat round 
on the mossy banks, and played games or 
guessed conundrums until sunset. 

‘ ‘ Time to go home, ’ ’ said Ted. ‘ ‘ Come on 
fellows, pick up your luggage.” 

Jenny had cleared the table, and repacked 
the baskets, which the boys appropriated. 

The girls put on their hats and wraps, 
feeling that the afternoon had been all too 
short, and Peggy had no hesitation in voic- 
ing this opinion. 

“It was a lovely picnic,” she declared, 
“what there was of it, but next time, let’s 
begin earlier.” 

“It lasted the whole afternoon,” said Dick 
Martin, “that’s about as long as picnics usu- 
ally grow.” 


234 


DORRANCE DOINGS 


Never mind, Peg,” Dorothy consoled 
her, ^ ^ we ’ll have another sometime. ^^The 
Polly picnic-ground has come to stay, and, 
we can have an afternoon here whenever 
anybody has a birthday.” 

‘‘Or whenever anybody hasn’t a birth- 
day,” supplemented Leicester. 

“Now, before we leave the scene of ac- 
tion,” called Ted, “let’s give three cheers 
for our friends, the Dorrances.” 

These were given in way that made the 
rafters ring, and then Dorothy proposed 
cheers for Peggy’s birthday. 

One good cheer deserves another, and 
there was much cheerfulness all along the 
way as the children trudged home from the 
picnic. Downstairs they went, along the 
halls, across the halls, through the rooms, 
and round-about, till they reached the front 
door, where Grandma Dorrance was waiting 
to receive their goodnights. 

And when the door was opened, there was 
Mr. Pettit’s coachman with a big picnic- 
stage to carry them all to their homes. 

As parting souvenirs, the Dorrances gave 


A PICNIC 


235 


each guest a box of Flower Candies, and as 
the stage lumbered down the hill, the young 
voices shouted back their cheery goodnights. 


CHAPTER XVII 


THE LADY TRAMP 

M arch came in that year with its most 
lamb-like demeanor. The first week 
of spring on the calendar verily 
lived up to its name. The skies and breezes 
held out tantalizing hopes of balminess, and 
the sun shone so insistently that it brought a 
green blush to the hard, cold ground. 

Leicester declared it was only a false 
alarm, but Dorothy insisted that spring had 
really come, and she began to make plans for 
planting a garden. 

suppose you’ll have a grove of peanut 
trees, and a plot of chocolate bushes,” said 
her brother. 

‘‘Of course,” assented Dorothy, “and I’ll 
soon begin to sow cocoanuts and plant sugar- 
cane.” 

But the candy making, in reality, had 
236 


THE LADY TRAMP 


237 


ceased to be a Jest, and was a flourishing, 
well-conducted business. 

The profits had been satisfactory, and 
slowly but steadily increased from week to 
week. 

They had paid back Mrs. Faulkner’s loan, 
and had paid the nurse’s bill, and though the 
doctor’s bill still remained unsettled, a few 
more weeks of work would clear that away. 

^‘And, anyway,” as Dorothy remarked 
with satisfaction, ‘‘we have Grandma, and 
we’ll just get her paid for as soon as we 
can.” 

“Are you going to keep on making candy. 
Dot,” asked Fairy, “after you get Grand- 
ma’s pneumonious bills all paid?” 

“Yes, I think so,” said Dorothy. “I 
don’t want to make it my life work exactly, 
but it seems too bad when we have built up 
the business so soundly, to give it up. 
We’ve got to do something to earn money, 
you know. Grandma’s income isn’t quite 
enough to keep us going, and I don’t know 
any better way of adding to it than by keep- 
ing on with the Flower Candies. But I 


238 


DORRANCE DOINGS 


don’t mind confessing that I’m sick of the 
very sight of chocolate and sugar.” 

should think you would be !” exclaimed 
Leicester, in a burst of sympathy. ^‘It’s a 
shame that you have to do it. J ust you wait, 
old girl, till I get out of school, and I’ll make 
some money, you see if I don’t !” 

Nonsense, Less,” Dorothy hastened to 
say, ^^I was only fooling. I’m only too glad 
I can make the candy, and it’s just once in a 
while that I get tired of it, and then only for 
a minute.” 

^‘You’re a plucky old Dot,” said Leicester, 
affectionately patting his sister’s arm, ^^and 
it seems to be your turn now to do the hard- 
est part. But just you wait a year or two, 
and see how the tables are turned.” 

‘^I don^t do the hardest part,” protested 
Dorothy. ^^Tou all do nearly as much as I 
do, and you have to go to school, besides. 
And anyway, Jenny is getting so clever at 
the work she can help me with all of it, ex- 
cept the candied fruits and glace things.” 

Owing to the warmth of the day this con- 
versation was taking place on the sunny 


THE LADY TRAMP 


239 


south veranda, and so bright was the sun- 
shine that the children were unprotected by 
hats or wraps. Fairy was sliding down the 
balustrade and then jumping up the steps 
like a kangaroo, with her two feet held close 
together, Dorothy sat on the top step, with 
her arms clasped around her knees; and 
Lilian was on the railing, swinging her feet. 

From her higher point of vantage, Lilian 
could see farther down the hill than the 
others and she suddenly exclaimed : 

‘^Goodness gracious, sakes alive! Will 
you please look at that 

The others scrambled to their feet and 
looked. 

What they saw was a smiling young wom- 
an of peculiar personal appearance, rap- 
idly walking toward them. Her costume, 
from her heavy boots to her small plain hat, 
was of what is known as the ‘‘common- 
sense” variety. She carried a good-sized 
umbrella, which she used as a walking-stick, 
and in the other hand was a small suit-case. 

“The Lady Tramp!” cried Dorothy. 

‘ ‘ Miss Lucille Dillingham ! ’ ’ exclaimed 


240 


DORRANCE DOINGS 


Lilian. think she should turn up 

again!’’ 

/‘She’s coming here,” wailed Fairy, her 
eyes growing big with dismay, and her big 
white bow bobbing around, as she angrily 
tossed her head. 

‘‘She is so,” cried Leicester, and obeying 
his natural instinct of gallantry, he ran to 
meet the approaching lady and greeted her 
politely, as he took her suit-case from her 
hand. 

The girls followed their brother, for 
though Miss Dillingham was not exactly a 
welcome visitor, yet an unexpected occur- 
rence was always an occasion for hilarious 
excitement among the Dorrances. 

“My dears!” exclaimed Miss Dillingham, 
“I am certainly glad to find you. I have 
tramped miles in search of you. How are 
you all?” 

“We’re pretty well,” said Fairy, “ ’cept 
Grandma, she’s been awful sick, but she’s 
well now, and we’re making candy to pay for 
her. I can only crack the peanuts, ’cause 
I’m so little, I break the English walnuts — 


THE LADY TRAMP 


241 


and then we have to chop ’em up. But then 
you see — ” 

‘^How do you do, Miss Dillingham,” broke 
in Dorothy offering her hand, ^^did you say 
you have been looking for usT’ 

“Yes, child. I took a great interest in 
you last summer. So when I started on my 
winter tramp, I went back to Lake Ponet- 
cong, hoping to see you again. And they 
told me — ” 

“Have you been to the Domain'? Have 
you seen Mr. Hickox '? Have you seen Mrs. 
Hickox*? Wasn’t she surprised?” Fairy 
had grasped Miss Dillingham’s hand, and 
was shaking it vigorously up and down by 
way of emphasis, as she poured forth these 
questions. 

“Yes,” said the Lady Tramp, “I saw the 
Hickoxes, and they directed me where to find 
you.” 

“Won’t you come in. Miss Dillingham,” 
asked Dorothy, for they had now reached the 
house, “and let us give you a cup of tea?” 

“I will, with pleasure. And I want you 
to put me up over night. I’ve tramped 


242 


DORRANCE DOINGS 


many miles to-day, and I’m pretty well done 
out. Well, upon my word, if you haven’t 
got another great big barn of a house!” 

Dorothy had never liked Miss Dillingham, 
with her out-spoken ways, and her rude 
bluntness of speech. But she felt she must 
be polite, and she answered, pleasantly, 
‘Wes, we have another big house, but we 
don’t find it too large for our numerous 
family. Come inside, I’m sure you will ad- 
mire the Flower Polly.’ 

“Flower Folly! yes, that’s what Mr. Hick- 
ox told me was the ridiculous name of your 
place. It’s just a peg worse than ‘Dor- 
rance Domain.’ Why don’t you call it Ivy 
Villa, or something pretty like that?” 

“This was already named when we took 
it. Miss Dillingham,” said Leicester, speak- 
ing quickly, for he noted Dorothy’s rising 
color, and feared that she might put into 
words the annoyance which he knew she felt. 

But Dorothy immediately realized, her- 
self, how foolish it was to care anything 
about the idiosyncrasies of the newcomer, 
who merely wanted a night’s lodging, and 


THE LADY TRAMP 


243 


her smiles returned and she became her own 
pleasant little self. 

^^This is our living-room,” she explained, 
as she ushered the guest in, ^^and here is 
Grandma, who will, I am sure, be pleased to 
see you again.'” 

Grandma Dorrance greeted the Lady 
Tramp with her usual gracious courtesy, 
and Miss Dillingham sat down with an air 
of great contentment. 

Moreover, she really made herself very 
entertaining, and the children began to feel 
more kindly disposed toward her. 

She was, as she had told them the sum- 
mer before, a Lady Tramp. Though pos- 
sessed of ample means, she had begun taking 
long walks for hygienic reasons, and as her 
journeys proved interesting m many ways, 
she continued to take them, and now she 
spent the larger portion of her time on sys- 
tematically planned walking-tours. 

^^And you really walked every step of the 
way from the Dorrance Domain to the 
Flower Polly?” asked Lilian, appalled at 
this hardy venture. 


244 


DORRANCE DOINGS 


‘‘I did, indeed,” said Miss Dillingham, 
‘‘but of course not all at once. I took it by 
easy stages, staying over night wherever I 
happened to find good accommodations, and 
in case of weariness or stormy weather, of- 
ten staying two or three days at one place.” 

“Goodness,” thought Dorothy to herself, 
“I hope she isn’t weary, and I hope no storm 
will come up to keep her here for two or 
three days.” 

But she said nothing of this sort, and, ex- 
cusing herself, went for an interview with 
Tessie, and to prepare a room for the self- 
invited guest. 

“Of course,” Miss Dillingham was saying, 
as Dorothy returned, “I shall pay for my 
accommodations, as I did when I stayed 
with you last sununer, and as this place 
seems most attractive, I may stay — ” 

But Dorothy had a distinct remembrance 
of her experience with Miss Dillingham last 
summer, and she knew the insistent intru- 
siveness of the Lady Tramp. So, quietly, 
but decidedly, she interrupted the speaker. 

“Miss Dillingham,” she said, “it was 


THE LADY TRAMP 


245 


quite right that you should pay for your ac- 
commodations at the Domain, because then 
we were keeping a hotel. But now we are 
not. The Flower Folly is merely the home 
of a private family. We cannot consent to 
take a boarder, but we are glad to invite you 
to remain over night as our guest.’’ 

‘‘What a determined little body it is!” 
said Miss Dillingham, looking at Dorothy, 
with what seemed to be mere curiosity. 
“Bless your heart, child, I’m not going 
away tomorrow. You have plenty of room 
here, and I want to stay for some time. 
Whether you accept money for my board or 
not, is a matter of no consequence to me. I 
am amply able to pay you, and I should not 
object even to exorbitant rates, but if you 
don’t chose to take it, it’s your own affair.” 

Dorothy felt baffled. She couldn’t turn 
Miss Dillingham out by force, and, too, if 
she should stay a week or two at a good fair 
rate of board, it would mean quite a little 
addition to their fund. But on the other 
hand, Dorothy didn’t like Miss Dillingham. 
The Lady Tramp insisted on treating her as 


246 


DORRANCE DOINGS 


a child who had no discretion or judgment 
of her own. And this, Dorothy knew, was 
an injustice. But with a flash of her usual 
quick decision, she saw that it was not fair 
to the others to let her personal prejudice 
stand in the way of what might be for their 
general good, and so she determined to leave 
the question open, and, later, confer with the 
family alone. 

‘‘At any rate. Miss Dillingham,” she sug- 
gested, “let me show you to your room now, 
and if you will consent to be our guest for 
tonight, we can discuss the other matter to- 
morrow morning.” 

“What do you think, people,” she asked, 
as she rejoined the family, “shall we let her 
stay?” 

“Why, I don’t think she’s so bad,” said 
Leicester. 

“No,” rejoined Dorothy, doubtfully, “ex- 
cept that she wants to boss everything, and 
as soon as she hears about the candy she’ll 
want to run the whole business. ’ ’ 

“That’s so,” Lilian acquiesced, “you 
know she wanted to take the Dorrance Do- 


THE LADY TRAIVIP 


247 


main off our hands entirely, and be at the 
head of it herself.’’ 

^‘Yes,” went on Fairy, as she remembered 
the incident of last summer. ‘‘And she’ll 
want to run the Flower Folly. She’ll want 
to be the lady of the house, and have all us 
Dorrances for her guests. And she’ll want 
to give orders to Kathleen and Tessie, and 
she’ll want to make all the candy, and crack 
all the nuts, and tie up the boxes, and tell 
me what sash to wear, and tell Grandma 
which lace cap to put on afternoons.” 

“That’s a dreadful picture. Fairy,” said 
Dorothy, laughing, “but I think it’s about 
true, and I, for one, don’t want her to stay. 
What we would gain financially wouldn’t 
pay for the hot water she’d keep this whole 
family in.” 

“I believe you’re right. Dot,” declared 
Leicester, “and anyway, you’re the one to 
be considered. If she’s going to bother you 
with your candy, or with your housekeep- 
ing, she’s not going to stay here.” 

Leicester’s fist came down on the table 
with a bang that made the books and papers 


248 


DORRANCE DOINGS 


fly off on the floor. But as this was his usual 
mode of emphasis, nobody noticed it, and 
anyway. Fairy always picked the things up 
about as quickly as they fell down. 

So it was practically decided that Miss 
Dillingham must resume her tramping the 
next day, though Dorothy felt a little uncer- 
tain as to how they could enforce this de- 
cision. 

And sure enough, at dinner that even- 
ing, when Miss Dillingham was told about 
the flourishing business of the Flower Can- 
dies, she did exactly what Dorothy had pre- 
dicted. 

‘‘What a splendid scheme!’’ she ex- 
claimed. “My! it is wonderful to think of 
your daring to embark on such an enter- 
prise! How fortunate I happened along 
just now. My advice and assistance will 
prove invaluable to your inexperience and 
ignorance.” 

“My sister isn’t ignorant. Miss Dilling- 
ham,” said Fairy, and the injured look in 
her big blue eyes and the childish dignity of 
her face robbed the speech of all rudeness 


THE LADY TRAMP 


249 


and made it only an expression of just in- 
dignation. ‘‘She is the smartest, capaburl- 
est, nn-ignorantest girl in the whole world, 
and she knows more about candy in a min- 
ute, than anybody else does in a hundred 
years ! And you must ’scuse me if I’m con- 
terdicterory to you, but I just can’t stand it, 
when my sister Dorothy gets talked at like 
that!” 

Miss Dillingham did not seem a bit of- 
fended at Fairy’s remarks, but only said, 
“Good little girl to be so loyal to your sis- 
ter, but you don’t understand, my pet. 
What Miss Dorothy really needs is a wise 
head to guide her, and a strong hand to help 
her. Mine shall be that head and that 
hand!” 

This speech struck the Dorrances as so 
funny, that they quite forgot to be indig- 
nant, but Dorothy choked back her laugh- 
ter, as she replied, “Perhaps I may be over- 
confident, Miss Dillingham, but having 
brought my candy business up to its present 
moderate success — I certainly can call it 
moderate — somehow I feel quite sure I can 


250 


DORRANCE DOINGS 


keep it there without other assistance than 
that which I now have.” 

‘‘I just guess you can!” exclaimed Fairy, 
with a look at Miss Dillingham that was 
meant to be a ferocious glare, but was in 
reality only a comical smile. 


CHAPTER XVIII 

QUARANTINED 

A lthough the day had been so warm 
and spring-like, there was a sudden 
change in the weather that night, and 
after the Flower Folly was in darkness and 
its occupants all safely tucked into bed, the 
wind began to blow like a hurricane and the 
mercury fell low in the thermometer. 

Dorothy awoke shivering, and throwing 
on her dressing-gown ran to the great cup- 
board where the extra bed coverlets were 
kept. 

Just as she reached there, she bumped 
into Lilian who was bound on the same er- 
rand. 

suppose,^’ Dorothy whispered, ^^we 
ought to take an extra quilt to Miss Dilling- 
ham.’’ 

‘‘All right,” said Lilian, her teeth chat- 
251 


252 


DORRANCE DOINGS 


tering with the cold, ^^you take this big 
chintz one to her, and I’ll take this little one 
and tuck it around Fairy. Less has an ex- 
tra blanket at the foot of his bed, so he’s all 
right. Whew! isn’t it cold^’ 

But safely snuggled under their extra 
covering, the girls were soon sound asleep 
again. 

The next morning was bitter cold, and 
they were glad to dress as rapidly as possi- 
ble, and hurry down to the great hall, where 
the four fireplaces held each a roaring, 
crackling fire. 

‘‘What a beautiful sight,” thought Dor- 
othy, as she descended the wide staircase, 
and watched the fiames that seemed leaping 
to greet her. And then another idea came 
into her mind. “When Miss Dillingham 
sees this she won’t want to go tramping out 
into the cold!” 

Then Fairy came downstairs. But un- 
like her usual fiy-away fashion, she came 
walking slowly, with one hand on the ban- 
ister. 

“What’s the matter, Toodles?” asked 


QUARANTINED 253 

Dorothy, looking in surprise at her small 
sister. 

''I’m sick, Dorothy, I’m awful sick. 
I’ve got a cold, and I sneezed a hundred 
times while I was getting dressed, and my 
eyes are all teary — but I’m not crying, truly 
I’m not. And I can’t breathe, either.” 

"Why, bless your heart. Baby. I should 
think you did have a cold ! and your cheeks 
are red. You have a fever too. You must 
have caught cold in the night, when it blew 
so hard, but Lilian came in and tucked you 
up warmly, didn’t she*?” 

"Yes, I found another quilt on my bed 
this morning all tucked in tight, but I must 
have caught cold before that. Oh, Dot, I 
do feel awful.” 

"Cheer up. Trot, a cold isn’t anything so 
very dreadful. You’ll feel better by after- 
noon, and tomorrow you’ll be all well, and 
ready to catch another.” 

Fairy cheered up under Dorothy’s en- 
couragement, and took her place at the 
breakfast table with the others. 

' ' Why, Fairy, ’ ’ exclaimed Leicester, 


254 


DORRANCE DOINGS 


‘ ‘ wliat ails your cheeks ? They ’re blazing ! ’ ’ 
Never niind,” said Dorothy gently, 
she’s been standing in front of the fire, 
toasting them, and she has a cold, besides. 
After breakfast we’ll dose her up a litttle.” 

‘‘Oh, bad attack of idfiooedza, is itT’ 
asked Leicester. “Awful doosance, cad’t 
talk id a datural voice, cad you?” 

“No,” said Fairy in doleful tones, “but 
I’ll get well soon, won’t I, Dorothy? You 
said I’d be well this afternoon, didn’t you, 
Dorothy? Did you say this afternoon, Dor- 
othy ? This afternoon ? ’ ’ 

“Yes, I think so,” answered Dorothy, “if 
you’re a good girl, and take some medicine, 
and stay in the house today.” 

But Lilian looked uneasily at Fairy’s red 
cheeks. “That child has a fever,” she said, 
“and I think we ought to call in Dr. Gra- 
ham. I’m afraid it’s something more than 
just an ordinary cold.” 

“I’m sure it is,” declared Miss Dilling- 
ham, looking critically at Fairy. “She 
looks exactly as my sister’s child did when 
she broke out with scarlet fever. The poor 


QUARANTINED 


255 


little thing only lived a week, it was an aw- 
fully sad case.’^ 

Dorothy darted an angry look at Miss Dil- 
lingham, but Leicester intervened before she 
could speak. 

‘‘That was a sad case,” he said, “but never 
you fear, Baby, we won’t let you have any 
scarlet fever, not much we won’t. But I’ll 
send Dr. Graham up when I go downtoAvn, 
to take a look at you, and probably he’ll give 
you the worst dose you ever saw in your 
life, but you’ll take it like a bird, won’t 
you?” 

“Yes,” responded Fairy, meekly. She 
was always meek when she didn’t feel well, 
and this usually amused the other children, 
but today her flushed little face, together 
with Miss Dillingham’s ill-advised remark, 
made them all conscious of a vague anxiety. 

Leicester himself was more alarmed than 
he cared to admit, and he hurried down to 
the village for Dr. Graham. But that kind 
old gentleman had gone out of town and had 
left his practice in charge of a young assist- 
ant, whose name was Dr. Sidney. 


256 


DORRANCE DOINGS 


The young doctor was more enthusiastic 
than experienced in his profession, but call- 
ing his cariage at once, he took Leicester 
with him, and together they returned to the 
Flower Polly. During Leicester’s absence 
Peggy Pike had come in, and after one look 
at Fairy, had declared that she surely had 
scarlet fever. 

Peggy was a devoted student of First 
Aid to the Injured,” and she insisted that 
even before the doctor came they must put 
Fairy’s feet in hot water and give her a dose 
of nitre. 

Dorothy agreed to the hot water, but re- 
fused to let Fairy take any medicine except 
at the doctor’s orders. 

Grandma Dorrance was so nervous and 
troubled with the commotion and worriment, 
that the children prevailed on her to go to 
her room and rest quietly, until the doctor 
should come and determine the nature of 
Fairy’s illness. 

So Lilian and Tessie gently led Mrs. Dor- 
rance away, while Dorothy and Peggy 
looked after the little invalid. 


QUARANTINED 


257 


Miss Dillingham, much to Dorothy’s re- 
lief, went away to her own room. 

Fairy, herself, appeared to be on the verge 
of her final parting from this world, but this 
counted for little, as she always acted like 
that in case of the slightest indisposition. 

‘‘I don’t believe there’s a thing the matter 
with her,” said Dorothy, ‘‘except a bad cold 
and a high fever.” 

‘ ‘ I don ’t either, ’ ’ said Peggy, “but we may 
as well be on the safe side.” 

So they put mustard in the hot water, until 
Fairy’s feet were as red as her cheeks, and 
she remarked in a weak, pathetic little voice, 
“I am just like a little boiled baby lobster. 
Did you say I’d get well this afternoon, Dor- 
othy ? This afternoon ? ’ ’ 

“I can’t quite tell, dearie, until the doc- 
tor comes, but I think you’ll be well soon.” 

Then they heard the wheels of the doctor’s 
gig, and in came Leicester with Dr. Sidney. 

“Well, well, my little lady,” said the doc- 
tor in cheery tones, “and what’s the matter 
now?” 

“Nothing much,” said Fairy, who was 


258 


DORRANCE DOINGS 


never too ill to talk, ‘^just a bad cold and a 
fever, and maybe it’s scarlet fever, but we 
don’t think it is. But Miss Dillingham 
thinks it is, and she says I won’t live a week, 
and Peggy thinks it is, but she didn’t say 
how long I’d live, and Dorothy thinks I’ll 
get well this afternoon.” 

As Dr. Sidney looked at Fairy his face 
grew grave. He felt her pulse, he took her 
temperature, and after asking a few ques- 
tions he remarked abruptly: 

‘Ht is scarlet fever, but I think it will be 
a mild case. However, we can’t tell that 
yet. Put the child to bed at once, and I will 
prescribe some medicines for her. She will 
require careful nursing, but the attendance 
of a trained nurse will not be necessary if 
there is anyone else that can look after her.” 

‘‘There are plenty of us,” answered Dor- 
othy, “if trained nursing is not necessary.” 

“I’ll be glad to come over and help,” said 
^‘but I must run home now, Dorothy. 
I’ll be back this afternoon.” 

Dr. Sidney gave Peggy a queer look. 

‘ ‘ Don ’t you live here ” he asked. He had 


QUARANTINED 


259 


lately came to Sheffield, and his acquaint- 
ance with the townspeople was somewhat 
limited. 

^^No, sir,’’ said Peggy, live down on 
Dover street.” 

‘‘ You can’t go home,” declared the doctor. 
“You must stay here for two weeks at least. 
This house is quarantined, and no one who 
is in it at this moment can leave it until all 
danger of infection is passed. That will be 
for a fortnight, anyway, and probably lon- 
ger. I’m sorry but we have to adopt this as 
a precautionary measure.” 

Peggy dropped into a chair like one 
stunned. 

“What will my mother say?” she cried. 
“Why, doctor, I can’t stay. I haven’t my 
clothes, and I have to speak a piece in school 
tomorrow.” 

The doctor smiled. “My dear child,” he 
said, “the law doesn’t consider that recita- 
tions at school weigh heavily against the 
health of the community. I’m sorry if it 
incommodes you, but the fact remains. 
During the quarantine no one who is now 


260 


DORRANCE DOINGS 


in this house can go out of it. And no one 
who is out of it can come in.’’ 

At this astounding announcement Fairy 
became greatly interested. She quite forgot 
her severe illness in the unusual excitement 
promised by a quarantine. 

We ’ll all die,” she said solemnly. ^^We 
won’t have anything to eat but candy and 
nuts, and that’s enough to kill us, anyway.” 

‘‘I shall come every day,” went on the 
doctor, ‘^and if you wish, I will take your 
lists to the market men, and they may come 
and deliver your orders on the porch. Then 
after they have gone away, you may go out 
and fetch them in.” 

‘‘Can we look out of the windows at 
them^?” asked Fairy, eager to know to what 
extent they were literal prisoners. 

The doctor looked at her curiously. 
“You seem better than you did,” he re- 
marked, “and though you’ve got scarlet fe- 
ver sure enough, I begin to hope it will be a 
mild case.” 

“For pity’s sake,” exclaimed Dorothy, 
struck with a sudden thought, “then, if 


QUARANTINED 261 

we’re quarantined, Miss Dillingham can’t 
go away!” 

Partly owing to this dreadful outlook and 
partly from excitement and fever, Fairy be- 
gan to cry. 

As Fairy’s crying spells came on sud- 
denly, and were little short of volcanic in 
their nature, the doctor observed this one 
with great interest. 

Noticing this. Fairy stopped as suddenly 
as she had begun. 

‘‘You must ’scuse me,” she said peni- 
tently, addressing herself to Dr. Sidney, “I 
know you probberly think I am too big to 
cry like that any more, and I ’spose I am, 
but when I think about Miss Dillingham 
being here for two weeks and perhaps taking 
care of my scarlet fever — ” here Fairy’s 
lips quivered again, and Dorothy, putting 
her arm around the sick child, led her from 
the room. 

“Is this so about the quarantine, doctor?” 
asked Leicester. “Can’t we really go out- 
side the house?” 

“No, my boy, I can’t allow it. If Dr. 


262 


DORRANCE DOINGS 


Graham were here he might hold a different 
opinion perhaps, but I don’t dare take the 
responsibility of doing otherwise than act- 
ing in accordance with the health laws. 
However, I trust your sister’s case is not se- 
rious, and that we shall bring her through 
nicely.” 

‘^But even though Fairy has a light case, 
aren’t the rest of us just as likely to catch 
the disease, and have it severely?” asked 
Peggy. 

^^Yes, my child, I am sorry to say that it 
is a possibility, yes, even a probability.” 

Leicester and Peggy were thoroughly dis- 
mayed by the doctor’s words, and sat look- 
ing at each other in silence as the gig rolled 
away. 

Then Miss Dillingham entered the room 
with her hat and coat on. 

^H’ve decided to go away at once,” she 
said. feel that I can be of no help, and 
I am strongly averse to staying in a house 
where there is an infectious disease. I will 
leave my goodbyes for the rest of the fam- 
ily, and depart immediately.” 


QUARANTINED 


263 


As Leicester afterward acknowledged, the 
strongest temptation he had ever been called 
upon to resist was the temptation to let Miss 
Dillingham go. But in face of the doctor’s 
orders, he felt that it would not be right, so 
he said, Pardon me. Miss Dillingham, but 
I’m afraid you can’t go just now. The 
house is quarantined, and Dr. Sidney has 
positively forbidden any person to enter or 
leave it except himself.” 

“Quarantined!” fairly shrieked Miss Dil- 
lingham. “I won’t stand it! I won’t stay 
here! You can^t keep me. I shall go at 
once.” 

“You mustn’t go. Miss Dillingham,” ex- 
plained Leicester, “and you can’t go. If 
you do, you are breaking the law and making 
yourself liable to the consequences. Of 
course, I can’t prevent your going if you 
choose to do so, but I can warn you that it 
is a violation of the law, and you will prob- 
ably suffer the legal punishment.” 

Miss Dillingham looked so helplessly 
angry that she was a comical sight. Unused 
to being thwarted in her intentions, she did 


264 


DORRANCE DOINGS 


not quite know how to take this situation, 
and she glared from one of the children to 
the other. 

‘^When is the doctor coming again?’’ she 
demanded. 

^^This afternoon.” 

‘‘I will see him then, myself, and inquire 
into this outrage. Quarantined, indeed ! ’ ’ 

Dorothy, who had left Tessie in charge of 
Dairy, came back, and Lilian also joined the 
group. 

Aside from the seriousness of the occa- 
sion, there was something irresistibly funny 
to the Dorrance children about being quar- 
antined in their own house, with two unwill- 
ing visitors. 

Peggy was quietly crying, and Miss Dil- 
lingham was sitting in speechless indigna- 
tion. 

‘‘Fairy has fallen asleep,” said Dorothy, 
“and somehow I can’t think she is so very 
ill. She seems so bright and cheerful.” 

“You can’t tell by that,” snapped Miss 
Dillingham. “The worst cases always be- 
gin light!” 


CHAPTER XIX 

A QUICK EECOVERY 

W ITH their usual facility for adjust- 
ing themselves to circumstances, 
the Dorrances accepted the situa- 
tion at once, and began to make plans for 
their two weeks of quarantine. 

^Hf it weren’t for the scarlet fever part of 
it,” commented Dorothy, ‘H think it would 
be rather interesting. It’s so comical to 
think of the market men pitching their 
things over the veranda railing, and then 
running away as quick as they can scoot.” 

^^How can you talk so?” asked Peggy, 
between her sobs. don’t see anything in- 
teresting about it. I want my mother, and 
I don’t want to have scarlet fever and die, 
without ever seeing her again.” 

'Ht is hard on you. Peg,” said Lilian, 

sympathetically, ''but if you do catch it, 
265 


266 


DORRANCE DOINGS 


I’m sure your mother will come here and 
take care of you.” 

‘^She can’t,” wailed Peggy, ‘‘she can’t 
leave the baby, and she couldn’t go back 
and forth for fear he ’d catch it. Oh, I think 
it’s awful!” 

“Chirk up, Peggy,” Dorothy comforted 
her, “you haven’t got the fever yet, and I 
don’t believe you will. You needn’t go into 
the room where Fairy is, you know. I shall 
take care of her, and I won’t come near 
you.” 

“Oh, that’s worse than ever,” moaned 
poor Peggy. “If I can’t see you, Dorothy, 
I shall surely die.” 

Dorothy was in despair. It was bad 
enough to have a sick sister, but to have two 
guests at the same time, one in floods of 
tears, and the other sitting with a stony 
countenance and refusing to speak, was al- 
most too much. 

“Look here, Peggy,” said Leicester, “we 
can’t help this thing, and you know it. 
We’re in just as much trouble as you are, if 
not more, and I think you ought to brace up 


A QUICK RECOVERY 


267 


and help Dorothy, and not act as if we got 
up this quarantine for an entertainment.’’ 

The justice of this appealed to Peggy. 
She stopped crying as soon as she could, and 
tried to do her best to comfort and help the 
others. 

“If you’re going to stay in the sick room, 
Dorothy,” she said, “I’ll tell you what I’ll 
do. I’ll help in the candy shop. I can’t take 
your place exactly, but I think Jenny can, 
and I’ll help her.” 

“ Jimminy crickets!” exclaimed Leicester, 
in sudden dismay, “we can’t send out any 
candy from this house, Dorothy! It 
wouldn’t be right, and they wouldn’t allow 
it, anyway. You can’t send candies to the 
market from a quarantined house!” 

At that Dorothy’s cheerfulness nearly 
gave way. 

“Oh,” she cried, “of course we can’t! and 
to stop the business for two or three weeks, 
will be to break it up entirely. And it was 
going along so nicely.” 

Then Miss Dillingham rose to the occa- 


sion. 


268 


DORRANCE DOINGS 


tell you wliat, Dorothy,” she said, 
‘^I’ll take charge of the candy department. 
That room is pretty well shut off from the 
rest of the house, and it certainly can’t be 
infected yet. Nor have I been very much 
exposed, and besides, grown people never 
have scarlet fever. I will go into your 
candy kitchen, and take entire charge. 
That is the only thing that will reconcile me 
to an enforced stay in this house. And fur- 
thermore I will allow you a commission on 
such profits as I may make in the two 
weeks.” 

Dorothy looked at Miss Dillingham, 
hardly knowing whether to feel amused or 
indignant. But the earnest expression on 
that lady’s face was so comical, that Dorothy 
couldn’t help laughing. 

Thank you very much,” she said, ‘‘but 
really. Miss Dillingham, I am very sure the 
doctor will not allow us to send out any can- 
dies during our quarantine. Of course, I 
am exceedingly sorry that you must stay 
here against your will, but try to be philo- 
sophical enough to believe that when a thing 


A QUICK RECOVERY 269 

cannot be helped, we ought to make the best 
of it/’ 

‘‘I don’t see any best to it,” sniffed Miss 
Dillingham, ‘‘and I think you are very fool- 
ish to give up your candy business without 
at least making a fight for it.” 

Dorothy sighed. “It is very hard for me 
to give it up,” she said, “not only because 
we need that income, but because this illness 
of Fairy’s will mean still more expense, and 
I don’t know how we’ll ever meet it.” 

At this point Dorothy nearly broke down, 
but the Dorrance grit came to her aid, and 
she ended bravely, “Oh, well, we’ll pull 
pull through some way. We’ll have to find 
some other way, that’s all.” 

Just then they heard shouts outside the 
window, and, looking out, saw Ted Pettit 
making wild gesticulations. 

Apparently he had heard of the quaran- 
tine, for he made no attempt to enter, but 
pointed to the piazza and then ran away. 

Leicester went out and found a note on 
the steps, which he brought in and read 
aloud. 


270 


DORRANCE DOINGS 


^^Dear Dorrances,” it ran, ^‘Put up a 
good figM, and we’ll help all we can. Dr. 
Sidney says Fairy’s case is not dangerous, 
but that you must all be strictly quarantined 
for two weeks or more. We’ll send you let- 
ters every day, but of course we can’t get 
any from you, as that’s against the rules. 
So we’ll make a code of signals. Anything 
white hung out the windows will mean that 
Fairy’s better. Anything red hung out will 
mean that she isn ’t quite so well. And we ’re 
fixing up a lot more signals, but I won’t take 
time to tell you about it now. You make up 
some for yourselves. Peggy’s mother is 
nearly crazy, so Peg had better make a set 
of signals for her, too. My mother is going 
to send you a pie every other day, and Mrs. 
Pike will send you pudding the days be- 
tween. Phil is only home evenings, so to- 
night we’re going to come up with a mega- 
phone and talk to you from the gate. Good- 
bye for now, keep up a good heart, and all 
will yet be well. Ted.” 

This note went far toward cheering the 
spirits of the Dorrances, and except for their 


A QUICK RECOVERY 


271 


anxiety about Fairy and their dismay at the 
failure of the candy business, the children 
would have looked upon the quarantine as 
rather jolly fun. 

‘‘I wonder what kind of pie Mrs. Pettit 
will send today,’’ said Lilian. 

‘‘I’m glad my mother’s going to send pud- 
ding,” Peggy brightened at the prospect, 
“for she does make lovely ones.” 

When Fairy awoke from her nap, she 
seemed no worse, but her cold was still bad, 
and her cheeks still of a burning scarlet. 

Dorothy and Tessie took care of her, 
while Lilian and Kathleen attended to the 
housekeeping department. 

Grandma Dorrance had been told of the 
quarantine, and though shocked and dis- 
turbed by the dreadful news, she took it, as 
was her custom, far more placidly than the 
others. 

By lunch time the family had quite set- 
tled down to the new condition of things, 
though unexpected troubles were continually 
popping up. 

Kathleen brought in a note which had 


272 


DORRANCE DOINGS 


been pinned to tlie back kitchen door by the 
milkman, stating that he would not bring 
milk to them any more as he could not risk 
the health of his other customers by even 
driving into the infected district. 

This was appalling, for milk was a great 
necessity in the Dorrance household. 

‘‘We’ll tell Dr. Sidney about that,” said 
Dorothy, “and perhaps he’ll be able to find 
some milkman who is willing to come, or 
perhaps he’ll bring milk to us, himself.” 

“He’ll have to run an express wagon, if 
he’s going to bring all our things,” prophe- 
sied Leicester, “for if the milkman has 
struck, I believe the butcher and grocery- 
man will do the same.” 

The afternoon was very exciting. Lei- 
cester’s prophecy came true, and one and all 
the market men brought the orders which 
Dr. Sidney had left with them, but also de- 
clared they would not come again while the 
scarlet fever was in progress. They justi- 
fied themselves by saying that if they did 
do so, they would be in danger of losing all 
their other customers. 


A QUICK RECOVERY 


273 


This was logical, but it left the Dorrances 
in sore straits. 

^^What can we do?’’ cried Dorothy. 
^‘We haven’t enough provisions in the 
house to last more than a day or two, except 
the candy things, and we can’t live entirely 
on nuts and sugar!” 

The outlook was indeed dark, especially 
as Fairy began to grow more restless and 
feverish, and the flush on her face and 
throat did not disappear. 

About flve o’clock, Dr. Sidney came again. 
After a look at his patient, he only cor- 
roborated what he had said in the morning, 
and enjoined the necessity of making the 
quarantine absolute and strict. He agreed 
to bring them some provisions when he came 
to make his daily visits, but Dorothy did 
not like to ask him to bring any more than 
were absolutely necessary, as it really meant 
a great tax on the busy doctor. 

don’t understand,” commented Lilian, 
as he went away, ^^why Dr. Sidney can go 
in and out of this house, and other people 
can’t. 


274 


DORRANCE DOINGS 


don’t either,” said Leicester, ^^but it’s 
always so. Doctors are immune, or some- 
thing like that, and they always go in and 
out of infected places just as they choose. 
And then, you know, he wraps a carbolic 
sheet around him when he goes into Fairy’s 
room.” 

Dr. Sidney had truly been very thorough 
in his efforts to prevent the spread of the 
disease. He had hung a sheet wet with car- 
bolic acid in the doorway of the sick room ; 
he had had all rugs and woolen draperies 
removed, and the floor sprinkled with dis- 
infectants. Dorothy and Tessie were put 
into special uniform, and the Doctor himself 
wrapped the disinfected sheet around him 
when he went in. 

Far from frightening Fairy, these things 
aroused her intense interest, and during the 
day she was not backward in her question- 
ing and acquired much information regard- 
ing the dread disease. 

‘‘I do think,” she said to Dorothy, ^Hhat 
scarlet fever is most interesting. I don’t 
feel sick a bit, ’cept I can’t breathe very 


A QUICK RECOVERY 275 

well, and that doctor does do such funny 
things/’ 

Late that evening, after the others had 
gone to bed, Dorothy sat in Fairy’s room 
thinking deeply. She was to watch the first 
half of the night, and then Tessie was to 
take her place. 

She was not especially anxious about 
Fairy, for so far the child was really not 
very ill, but a dread of what might happen 
if the others should catch the fever, was 
strong upon her. 

And equally as dreadful was the thought 
that her profitable candy business had been 
suddenly and entirely swept away. It did 
seem too bad, that just as they were getting 
into comfortable financial circumstances, 
this source of income should be stopped. 

Dorothy’s heart was very heavy, and per- 
haps owing to her loneliness and the late- 
ness of the hour, she seemed to lose her 
usual buoyant cheerfulness. 

The room was so still, and with its bare 
fioor and white sheets it looked so ghastly 
and forlorn, that Dorothy’s spirits sank 


276 


DORRANCE DOINGS 


lower and lower, and for the first time in her 
brave young life she felt utterly despondent. 

She had a little note which Phil Pettit 
had tlirown in at the window, and as she 
read it over and over, its cheery affection 
comforted her a little. He had written that 
he would leave a light burning in the Pettit 
house all night, and that when she felt 
lonely she must look down that way, and see 
it twinkling and remember that her friends 
were there. 

Ordinarily this would have seemed a bit 
comical, or even foolish, to Dorothy, but 
tired and sad as she was now it did comfort 
her to look out of the window and see the 
light shining in the Pettit home. 

Dear old Phil, how kind and thoughtful 
he always was. Not as jolly or as talkative 
as Ted, but with a quicker sense of sympa- 
thy and good comradeship. 

But after all the twinkling light seemed 
very far away, and Dorothy turned from the 
window with a sigh, and sat down again to 
her vigil. 

The clock ticked with that peculiar sound 



“DOROTHY SAT SILENTLY WATCHING THE SLEEPING CHILD’’ 


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■ -• ■:■ >s'v> '-‘'-t ■ -... /'■ -.. 




.* V '. 







A QUICK RECOVERY 277 

wMch is never heard anywhere save in a 
sick-room at night, and Dorothy sat silently 
watching the sleeping child. 

Then the door-bell rang. It was nearly 
midnight, and though Dorothy was startled 
at the sound, it was a decided relief to have 
something happen. 

In accordance with the doctor’s orders, 
she did not leave the room, but going to the 
sheeted doorway, she listened to know who 
it might be. The dreadful thought came to 
her that it might be Dr. Sidney, who, deem- 
ing Fairy’s case more serious than he had 
acknowledged, had thought it necessary to 
come again that night. 

She heard Kathleen open the door and 
admit someone. Then she heard Leices- 
ter’s voice as he bounded downstairs. And 
then, in a moment, heavier footsteps came 
tramping up the stairs and Dr. Graham 
came striding into the room. 

^‘What’s this all about?” he said. 
‘^Where’s that child? Let me see her!” 

Dorothy’s heart gave a leap of joy. Al- 
though she had no reason to distrust Dr. 


278 


DORRANCE DOINGS 


Sidney’s skill, yet she was glad to see tlieir 
old friend and well-beloved doctor. 

Dr. Graham sat down on the edge of 
Fairy’s bed and watched her intently, then 
gently wakened her. 

^‘What’s the matter with you, little one?” 
he said, taking her pulse between his great 
fingers. 

^‘Scarlet fever,” answered Fairy, prompt- 
ly, ‘‘and we’re quarantooned, and I can’t 
live more than a week unless I get well, and 
there’s some hope of that, ’cause it’s a light 
case, but sometimes the lightest cases die, 
and so we can’t tell yet. And we’re quar- 
antooned and we can’t get much to eat, 
’cause it bothers Dr. Sidney, — he can’t run 
a market-wagon you loiow, — and this room 
is all fixed up for me, and is just full of dis- 
inf ecterations. ” 

“Scarlet fever!” exclaimed Dr. Graham. 
“Ha, ha, ha! Ho, ho, ho! scarlet fever in- 
deed! A nice kind of scarlet fever you’ve 
got ! Pull down those ridiculous sheets, and 
smash that sign on the front door! This 
quarantine is called off.” 


A QUICK RECOVERY 


279 


‘^Oh, Doctor,” cried Dorothy, ‘‘what do 
you mean ? Isn ’t it scarlet fever ? ’ ’ 

“No, it isn’t,” said the jolly old doctor, 
still chuckling as he pulled down the sheet 
from the doorway, “nor it isn’t small-pox, 
nor yellow fever, nor the bubonic plague! 
Come in, if you like, you poor children.” 

His last remark was addressed to the 
twins and Peggy, who, in dressing gowns 
and slippers, were huddled in the hall. 
Miss Dillingham, who had hastily dressed 
herself, was there, too, and Kathleen and 
Tessie stood shivering in the back-ground. 


CHAPTER XX 


WHITE SIGNALS 

4 4 T you’ve had all this scare 

Jl^ and bother over nothing,” went 
on Dr. Graham, ‘^and I’m sorry to 
have to confess to you that it is all owing 
to a mistake of Dr. Sidney’s. I beg you 
won’t be too hard upon him, he’s only a 
student you know, and is eager to do his 
best in a serious case, or what he believes 
to be a serious case. Now there is nothing 
the matter with this child at all, except a 
bad cold in her head, and the slight fever 
that usually attends influenza.” 

‘‘But what makes her face and throat so 
scarlet. Doctor?” asked Dorothy, pointing 
to her sister’s red cheeks. 

Dr. Graham’s eyes twinkled. 

“That,” he said, “is entirely due to the 
continued conjunction of this red cheese- 
280 


WHITE SIGNALS 


281 


cloth comfortable against the patient epi- 
dermis!” 

For a brief instant the Dorrances looked 
at the qnilt in question, and remembered 
how Fairy always cuddled her head down 
into the bed-clothing. 

Then such a shout of laughter as went up ! 
The Dorrances were always fond of a joke, 
and this was such a huge one, and so de- 
liciously ridiculous, that they could not get 
over it. 

‘‘Oh,” cried Leicester, between his shouts 
of hilarity, “why didn’t you wash your face. 
Fairy?” 

‘ ‘ I did ! ’ ’ declared Fairy indignantly. ‘ ‘ I 
washed it like everything!” 

“It’s an aniline dye,” said the doctor, 
rubbing his fingers on the cheese-cloth, “and 
though it rubbed off on the child’s warm 
little face, it is not easy to remove with 
soap and water.” 

“Will it always stay on me?” asked 
Fairy, in alarm. “Must I always be a 
reddy-red lobster?” 

“No,” answered the doctor kindly, “I’ll 


282 


DOERANCE DOINGS 


engage to whiten your face again for you, 
if you’ll discontinue the use of this par- 
ticular coverlet. Have you used it long?” 

‘‘No!” exclaimed Lilian. “I just put it 
on her bed last night. It grew so cold in 
the night, that I feared she wasn’t warm 
enough, and I tucked that well around her. 
It’s a new one, we’ve never used it before.” 

“Well, that’s your scarlet fever germ!” 
said the doctor, “and while I’m sorry for 
all the trouble it had made you, honestly, 
I’m more sorry for poor Dr. Sidney. He 
will be terribly chagrined over his mistaken 
diagnosis.” Here the doctor chuclded 
again, for it was certainly a great joke from 
a professional point of view. 

“How did you happen to come here to- 
night?” said Dorothy. 

“I came back to town sooner than I ex- 
pected. I reached home late, and Dr. Sid- 
ney at once told me about the case. Fairy’s 
symptoms as he described them, didn’t seem 
to me to indicate scarlet fever, so I ques- 
tioned him more closely, and concluded that 
there was a mistake somewhere. So I came 


WHITE SIGNALS 


283 


right over to see what it was all about, and 
I’m mighty glad I did. Now you can all 
go back to your beds, and sleep peacefully, 
for your quarantine is raised, and you’re 
free citizens once more.” 

want to go home,” said Peggy Pike. 

Can’t you take me along with you. Doc- 
tor?” 

^‘Tes, child, bundle into your things, and 
I’ll restore you to your desolate mother.” 

Peggy ran for her hat and coat, but the 
other guest seemed in no hurry to take her 
departure. 

^‘I will go to my room now,” said Miss 
Dillingham, ^‘and owing to the excitement 
of the night, I shall probably sleep late to- 
morrow morning. Do not awaken me. 
Also, I shall accept your invitation to re- 
main two weeks, and I look forward with 
pleasant anticipations to my visit.” 

Miss Dillingham marched away to her 
room, and Dr. Graham looked after her with 
a comical expression on his face. 

^^Who is she?” he said. 

“Oh, an acquaintance of ours who feared 


284 


DORRANCE DOINGS 


she was going to he quarantined here and 
didn’t like it a bit, but the idea of a visit 
seems to please her better.” Dorothy said 
this cheerfully, for she was so delighted at 
the sudden change of the situation, that she 
felt kindly disposed even toward the Lady 
Tramp. 

Tiptoeing softly to Grandma’s room, Dor- 
othy found that the old lady was awake, and 
patiently waiting to learn what the commo- 
tion was all about. Dorothy explained, and 
Mrs. Dorrance accepted the new condition 
of things quite as placidly as she had re- 
ceived the news of the quarantine. And 
then, with a kiss, Dorothy left her for the 
night. 

‘‘You must be pretty careful of your 
Grandmother, my child,” said the doctor to 
Dorothy, as they had a few moments’ serious 
conversation before he went away. “She 
is so calm and placid that it does not seem 
quite natural, and though she is not ill, I 
want you to keep a good watch over her, that 
she may not catch cold or meet with any 
accident.” 


WHITE SIGNALS 


285 


Dorothy promised to remember the doc- 
tor’s advice, and he went away, taking the 
joyful Peggy with him. 

The breakfast table next morning was a 
scene of jubilee. The Dorrances were so 
delighted at the turn affairs had taken, that 
they made no effort to control their noisy 
exuberance. 

And so gay were their spirits, that even 
when Miss Dillingham came down, late, as 
she had prophesied, her appearance did not 
check their hilarity. 

Indeed Leicester endeavored to draw her 
into their fun and frolic, and to his surprise 
Miss Dillingham responded pleasantly. 

Dorothy did not want the Lady Tramp to 
stay and make a visit, but Miss Dillingham 
calmly remarked that since Leicester had 
told her the day before that she was obliged 
to remain for two weeks, she had concluded 
to do so, consequently she would now re- 
main. 

It was a ridiculous argument and Doro- 
thy knew it, but she couldn’t bring herself 
to turn a guest away, and, too, she was so 


286 


DORRANCE DOINGS 


happy to think that that dreadful quaran- 
tine was removed that she was ready to ac- 
cept almost any lesser evil. 

course,’’ said Leicester, ^‘I’m jolly 
glad that Fairy’s scarlet fever was nothing 
but a fake, still I can’t help feeling sort of 
sorry that we didn’t even have a chance to 
use our code of signals. It would have been 
fun.” 

‘‘I don’t see why we can’t signal all the 
same,” suggested Dorothy, ‘‘and anyway, 
perhaps the Pettits don’t know yet that 
we’re not quarantined.” 

“Sure enough,” said Leicester, “I don’t 
believe they do know it.” 

“Let’s signal that she’s better,” cried 
Lilian. “You know anything white hung 
in the window was to mean that she w^as 
getting better.” 

“We’ll do it,” shouted Leicester, and, in- 
deed, all four of the children appreciated at 
once the possibilities of the situation, and 
flew for white signals. 

In less than a quarter of an hour the 
Flower Folly presented a peculiar appear- 


WHITE SIGNALS 


287 


ance. In every window and available place 
bung handkerchiefs, towels, and even 
sheets, which fluttered in the winter wind, 
and presented the appearance of an unusual 
kind of wash-day. 

As the Pettit boys came up the hill and 
saw the multitude of waving signals, they 
realized at once that Fairy must be not only 
better but entirely well, to call forth such a 
demonstration of good news. 

As they neared the house the doors were 
flung open, and the Dorrances, including the 
patient herself, greeted them with shouts of 
joy. Ted and Phil screamed with laughter 
over the joke, and were quite as delighted 
as the rest that it had been only a joke. 

We ’ll have a jubilee this afternoon,” 
said Ted, ^‘up in the picnic grounds. I’ll 
scare up a crowd, and you may expect us 
over about four o’clock.” 

‘^All right,” assented Dorothy cordially, 
‘^be sure to come. We will make it a May 
party, and Fairy shall be Queen of the May 
to celebrate her rapid recovery.” 

‘‘What do you mean,” inquired Miss Dil- 


288 


DORRANCE DOINGS 


lingham, ‘‘by talking about picnic grounds 
and May parties in the winter time 

“Never you mind, Miss Dillingham,’’ said 
Dorothy, smiling with an air of mystery. 
“You wait until four o’clock this afternoon, 
and we’ll show you a picnic ground which 
I feel pretty sure will be a little different 
from anything you’ve ever encountered in 
your tramps.” 

Miss Dillingham good-naturedly agreed 
to await the afternoon’s disclosures, and 
then, remarking that it was a glorious day 
for a long walk, she went for her wraps, and 
started off all alone to explore the country 
around. 

Dorothy gave a sigh as she departed. 

“She isn’t so bad,” she declared, “except 
that she wants to run everything herself. 
If she’d act more as a guest ought to act, 
I wouldn’t mind so much having her here 
for two weeks, but she insists on interfering 
and advising and poking her nose into 
everything that is going on. Now I know 
perfectly well that when she comes back 
from that walk, she’ll prance into my candy- 


WHITE SIGNALS 


289 


kitchen and instruct me how to make cream 
chocolates.’’ 

‘‘Don’t let her do it, Dot,” said Leicester. 
“Stand up for your rights, and if it’s neces- 
sary get Kathleen to help you and tie Miss 
Dillingham into a chair with strong ropes 
and keep her there till I come home, and 
then I’ll have her arrested for disturbing 
the peace.” 

Dorothy laughed and said, “O, I suppose 
I can manage her, but somehow she does 
have a most annoying manner.” 

Sure enough, when Miss Dillingham came 
back from her walk she marched straight 
into the candy-shop, and deliberately sat 
down to watch Dorothy at her work. Doro- 
thy felt her temper rising, but she deter- 
mined to keep cool and treat the matter 
sensibly. 

Miss Dillingham asked innumerable ques- 
tions, but to Dorothy’s surprise offered 
very little advice. 

“Will you let me try to make some?” she 
said at last. “I truly want to learn how, 
and if you won’t take me in as a partner 


290 


DORRANCE DOINGS 


with you, which would really be for your 
own advantage, I mean to go away and set 
up a candy factory myself. It won’t inter- 
fere with your business at all, as I shall 
probably settle in a far western town.” 

This was decidedly better than Dorothy 
had hoped for. If Miss Dillingham was 
going away to the far west, they would be 
relieved of her unwelcome visits. Realiz- 
ing this, Dorothy quite cheerfully began to 
give the Lady Tramp systematic instruction 
in the art of candy-making, and during the 
morning the two became much better friends 
than they had been. 

Dorothy discovered that her guest had 
common sense, a quick wit, and an energetic 
perseverance, all of which qualities appeal- 
ed to the Dorrance spirit. 

That afternoon the young people arrived 
for their jubilee picnic. 

The picnic grounds had become a per- 
manent institution, and quite frequently the 
boys and girls gathered there of an after- 
noon. 

As Dorothy had imagined it would, the 


WHITE SIGNALS 


291 


picnic party proved very attractive to Miss 
Dillingham’s taste. She was so fond of out- 
of-doors, that to have a fairly good repre- 
sentation of a natural grove, in-doors, was 
to her a pleasant surprise. 

Partly for this reason, and partly because 
she and the Dorrances had come to a better 
understanding. Miss Dillingham entered 
into the spirit of the occasion and proved 
herself a welcome addition to the party. 
She described most entertainingly some of 
her experiences and adventures when 
tramping in strange countries, and though 
her manner was, by nature, a little harsh 
and dictatorial, she appeared to much bet- 
ter advantage than Dorothy had dared to 
hope. 

During the afternoon the subject of the 
lost statue was referred to, and Miss Dil- 
lingham was eagerly anxious to learn all 
about it. 

‘‘Let Ted Pettit tell that yarn,” suggested 
Leicester, “for he can make a better story 
out of it than anyone else. The facts in the 
case so far as known, are very few and 


292 


DORRANCE DOINGS 


small, but Ted can elaborate them better 
than the rest of us/’ 

u There isn’t much to tell,” said Ted, half 
apologetically, ^‘but you see. Miss Dilling- 
ham, it was this way. When the old gen- 
tleman named Flower began to build this 
noble work of architecture in which we now 
find ourselves, he brought to it, tradition 
says, some wonderful works of art from 
Italy and other furrin parts. Most of these 
are accounted for and are in possession of 
his heirs, but it seems there w^as one mar- 
ble statue of exceeding value, and great 
beauty, which mysteriously disappeared. 
Tradition doesn’t seem to think that it was 
stolen. Tradition seems to have a rooted 
conviction that the old gentleman Flower 
hid the statue in this house, while the house 
was in process of building, with the inten- 
tion of producing it again later on. Well, 
then you see, the old gentleman went abroad, 
and unexpectedly died there, and no one 
has ever been able to discover where the 
statue is. Indeed many people think it 
isn’t anywhere, and never was. They look 


WHITE SIGNALS 


293 


upon the whole thing as a bit of interesting 
fiction. But the heirs seem to believe in it, 
and they’ve offered a reward of five thou- 
sand dollars for the discovery and restora- 
tion of their family statue.” 

^^How very interesting!” cried Miss Dil- 
lingham, ‘‘and they think it’s concealed in 
this house?” 

“Why yes, they seem to think so, and I 
believe tradition also tried to get up some 
stories of a ghost of the statue that walks 
around wailing to he found and restored. 
But I can’t vouch for these ghost stories. 
They’re very hazy and shadowy, and when 
people tell them they usually make them up 
on the spur of the moment, without regard 
for tradition or anything else. I’ll make 
up one for you, if you like.” 

“No,” said Miss Dillingham, laughing. 
“I’m interested in the statue story, but I 
don’t seem to take much stock in the ghost. 
But I know one thing, if this were my house, 
or if I lived in it, I wouldn’t rest until I 
had investigated every inch of it in a search 
for that statue.” 


294 


DORRANCE DOINGS 


^^Good for you, Miss Dillingham,” cried 
Leicester with enthusiasm. ‘‘Let’s insti- 
tute a search right away.” 

“And I think,” went on Miss Dillingham, 
“that the hiding place is somewhere between 
the walls, or in some place like that, which 
will be very difficult to find unless you know 
the secret. However, there’s no harm in 
trying.” 

Inspired by Miss Dillingham’s interest, 
the children all fiew to the walls and looked 
and measured industriously. The boys tap- 
ped on the plaster and wood-work, listening 
for hollow sounds that should betoken a hid- 
den recess, but no hint or sign could they get 
of anything that would help them in their 
search. 


CHAPTER XXI 


A POSSIBLE PUKCHASER 

A gain life ran along smoothly at the 
Flower Folly. Although Grandma 
Dorrance was frail and delicate, she 
was not really ill, and the children were as 
well and strong as it is possible for four 
healthy, happy young people to be. 

The candy business was going on steadily 
and was paying a fair profit into the Dor- 
rance treasury. 

It was not an easy occupation, and Doro- 
thy often grew very tired of it. It meant 
careful and earnest work, regularly day 
after day, and though not mipleasant, it was 
tedious and even wearing. 

But Dorothy did not complain, and went 
patiently on, cheered by the knowledge that 
by her own efforts she was making it possi- 
ble for the family to live comfortably and 
happily in the Flower Folly. 

295 


296 


DORRANCE DOINGS 


Miss Dillingham, though pleasant enough 
in some ways, was not of a nature congenial 
to Dorothy. Still, she was honestly inter- 
ested in the candy work, and while serving 
her apprenticeship in the kitchen, was neces- 
sarily a help with the work. 

So Dorothy with true Dorrance pluck put 
up with her guest’s brusqueness, and in- 
structed her, day after day, with unfailing 
amiability. 

One day Leicester came in from school in 
great excitement. 

^‘What do you think, Dorothy?” he cried. 
‘‘We’ve got to move out of Flower Polly!” 

“Move out!” exclaimed Dorothy in dis- 
may. ‘ ‘ What do you mean ? ’ ’ 

“Why, you know,” went on Leicester, “we 
rented this place with the understanding 
that if anybody wanted to buy it we would 
give it up at a week’s notice. Well, the time 
has come.” 

As was a Dorrance habit in moments of 
great excitement, Dorothy sat down on the 
floor. “We can’t go! ’’she declared. “We’ve 
just got everything in shipshape order ; the 


A POSSIBLE PURCHASER 


297 


candy-kitchen is working splendidly ; every- 
body ’s well and happy; there are only three 
days left of Miss Dillingham’s visit, and 
spring is coming, and everything. Oh, 
Leicester, I don’t want to leave this place.” 

‘‘Neither do I, Dot, but you know that 
was our agreement, and I suppose we’ll 
have to live up to it.” 

The other children came in, and they all 
sat on the floor, while they talked over the 
dread prospect, Lilian looked the picture 
of despair, and Fairy was about to set up 
one of her most magniflcent crying-spells, 
when Miss Dillingham came in from a walk. 

“What is the matter*?” she inquired, look- 
ing at the four dejected beings on the floor. 

“We’ve lost our home,” explained Doro- 
thy, “and our hearts are broke entirely!” 

“I shouldn’t think you’d care so much,” 
commented Miss Dillingham, when the case 
was explained to her more fully. “You’re 
such a ridiculous crowd, you don’t mind 
picking up your things and moving from 
pillar to post. Now I should have said you 
would have hailed this as an occasion to 


298 


DORRANCE DOINGS 


work off some of your superfluous energy.” 

^‘We don’t hail it that way, or any other 
way,” said Leicester. ‘^We’re terribly 
broken up over it. We haven’t any place to 
go, and we don’t want to go to it if we had.” 

‘^We might go back to the Domain. Lil- 
ian was always a little quicker than the oth- 
ers to accept the inevitable. 

don’t want to go back to the Domain,” 
said Dorothy. ^‘I’d much rather stay here 
all summer. The hotel was all very well for 
one season, but I don’t believe that I should 
care to try it again. I’d rather make candy 
for a living.” 

^‘You could make candy up there,” sug- 
gested Miss Dillingham. 

‘‘Not nearly so well. It’s too far from 
New York city to send it conveniently, and 
besides I have my kitchen here all flxed just 
as I want it, and it’s easier getting supplies 
and everything. Oh dear, I’m just discour- 
aged!” 

The truth was that Dorothy’s hard work 
in her candy business had told somewhat on 
her nerves, and the girl was not quite so 


A POSSIBLE PURCHASER 299 

buoyant of spirit as she had been during 
their summer at the Domain. 

Miss Dillingham was far from being blind 
to this fact, but it was characteristic of her 
blunt and tactless disposition that she an- 
swered, ‘‘Well, if youVe got to go, you may 
as well make the best of it. There’s no use 
of making a fuss about a thing you can’t 
help.” 

“My sister isn^t making a fuss!” cried 
Fairy, who always flared up on such occa- 
sions. “She’s the bravest and the pluckiest 
girl ever! And if we’ve got to move, my 
sister Dorothy will just go to work and move 
us, and she’ll do it better than anyone else in 
the world could!” 

“But what you say is true. Miss Dilling- 
ham,” said Leicester. “If we’ve got to go, 
and I suppose we have, we may as well go 
laughing as crying.” 

“Is the house really sold?” asked Doro- 
thy. 

‘ ‘ As good as sold, ’ ’ replied Leicester. ‘ ‘ I 
saw Mr. Brown, he’s the agent you know, 
and he said that a man named Keller had 


300 


DORRANCE DOINGS 


about decided to purchase it. He said Mr. 
Keller had never seen the Flower Folly, but 
from the description and plans of it, he 
thinks it’s just about what he wants. He 
said Mr. Keller might come to Sheffield this 
week and come over to look at the place, 
but Mr. Brown is sure that he ’ll take it, be- 
cause the estate is willing to sell it at a bar- 
gain.” 

“Oh, of course he’ll take it, then,” said 
Lilian. “Now let’s think where we shall 
go.” 

“If we really have to move out within a 
week,” declared Dorothy, “of course we 
can’t decide on a new home in that time. 
We’ll all have to go down to the Sheffield 
Inn, and stay there until we can decide on 
something. I suppose I’ll have to give uj) 
the candy.” 

For once the Dorrances seemed unable to 
rise above this new and sudden trouble that 
depressed them. It seemed such a pity to 
be turned out of the home that they had 
worked so hard to make bright and attrac- 
tive. 


A POSSIBLE PURCHASER 301 

They talked it over with Grandma, and 
she agreed that the only thing to do at pres- 
ent was to take rooms at the inn. The chil- 
dren well remembered the little cramped-up 
rooms at the small country hotel, and won- 
dered how they would manage to exist in 
them. 

The only thing I can think of,’’ said 
Leicester, ^‘is to wait until that Mr. Keller 
comes up here to look at the house, and then 
to seize him bodily and chuck him head first 
down the well.” 

‘^That’s a noble scheme,” approved Doro- 
thy, ^^but I’m not sure it’s practical.” 

Shall we leave the picnic grounds for 
the little Kellers^” asked Lilian, ^^or shall 
we clean out all the trees and things?” 

‘‘That doesn’t matter so much either 
way,” said Dorothy, “but I can scarcely see 
how we are ever going to get all our furni- 
ture and books and things moved out and 
stored somewhere.” 

“Hickox’ll fix it; it’ll be all right,” said 
Leicester, mimicking Mr. Hickox’s cherry 


voice. 


302 


DORRANCE DOINGS 


This made the others laugh, and the Dor- 
rance spirits began to rise a little. 

^^Wedl have some new experiences, any- 
way,’^ said Dorothy, trying to find a bright 
side to look on, ‘‘and if I thought we could 
afford to pay for them, it mightn’t be so 
bad.” 

“ It is bad,” asserted Lilian, “it’s per- 
fectly dreadful, awful, horrible, terrible ; it’s 
heart-rending!” 

“Heart-rending it is. Twin,” agreed 
Leicester, and then he started the old Dor- 
rance groan. The others joined in with the 
full force of their lungs, aided and abetted 
by their sudden cause for woe, and the con- 
certed wail was one of the most remarkable 
they had ever voiced. 

Miss Dillingham was scared nearly out 
of her wits at this performance, although 
she had heard it the summer before at the 
Domain. 

And when, with a sudden reaction of feel- 
ing, Leicester followed up the groan with a 
rousing cheer for the Flower Folly, and they 
all joined in lustily. Miss Dillingham 


A POSSIBLE PURCHASER 


303 


looked as if she thought pandemonium had 
indeed come. 

But though they tried to put a brave face 
on the matter, and make merry whenever 
they could, the children spent a doleful 
evening, and went to bed with sadly de- 
pressed spirits. 

The next morning brought the slight ad- 
dition of cheerfulness that a new day always 
brings, but still the four felt a sense of im- 
pending disaster which they could not over- 
come. 

Dorothy went to her work in the candy 
shop, and the other three went to school. 
Miss Dillingham declared her intention of 
taking a long walk. Dorothy was rather 
relieved to have her guest absent that morn- 
ing, for she wanted to think things out by 
herself. 

As Miss Dillingham started out of the 
door, a man was coming up the steps of the 
front veranda. 

‘^Good morning,’’ he said politely, “this 
is the house called the Flower Folly, is it 
not?” 


304 


DORRANCE DOINGS 


^‘Yes, it is,’’ said Miss Dillingham, who 
was never affable to a stranger. 

am Mr. Keller,” the man explained, 
‘‘and as I’m thinking of buying the place, 
I wish to look around it a bit.” 

“Come in,” said Miss Dillingham. And 
though the invitation was given in a rather 
ungracious tone, Mr. Keller followed her as 
she reopened the front door and returned 
to the house. 

There was no one in sight, for Dorothy 
was at work in the candy shop, and Grandma 
Dorrance always spent the morning in her 
own room. 

“Are you of the Dorrance family? Are 
you in charge here?” asked Mr. Keller. 

Miss Dillingham had a sudden inspiration 
which rapidly grew into a resolve. 

“I’m not one of the Dorrances,” she re- 
plied. “My name is Miss Dillingham. 
But I am in charge here just at present, and 
I will show you the house, if you wish to 
see it.” 

Her manner was so authoritative, that the 
visitor had no thought of questioning her 


A POSSIBLE PURCHASER 305 

statement, and he expressed his desire to 
see the house. 

have no wish to deceive you,’’ said Miss 
Dillingham in her quick, decided way, ‘^and 
I feel it my duty to tell you the defects of 
the house as well as its advantages.” 

‘‘That is fair and business-like,” declared 
the gentleman, cordially, “I confess I am 
surprised to find the house so isolated, and 
so far from the village.” 

“It is a long distance,” Miss Dillingham’s 
air was apologetic, “and there is no tele- 
phone connection. The roads are also very 
poor around here, and to drive to and from 
town is a most uncomfortable trip.” 

“I fear that would be an objection from 
my wife’s point of view,” said Mr. Keller. 
“She had hoped for a pleasant country 
place with well kept lawns and drives.” 

Miss Dillingham did not say that the road 
only required some slight mending in a few 
places, and that the lawns would quickly 
respond to any care and tillage that might 
be given them, but went on with her remarks 
about the house. 


306 


DORRANCE DOINGS 


‘‘It is a cold, draughty house,” she ex- 
plained, with a little shiver, “and most diffi- 
cult to heat even by burning a large amount 
of coal.” 

“If you wish to sell the place,” said Mr. 
Keller, looking at her curiously, “it is un- 
usually honest of you to own its defects so 
frankly.” 

“I’m a blunt-spoken woman, sir,” was the 
reply. “I feel it my duty to lay before you 
the disadvantages of the place. The advan- 
tages you can see for yourself.” 

“I’m not sure I see very many,” said Mr. 
Keller doubtfully, looking about him. 

“The rooms are very large, and numer- 
ous,” suggested Miss Dillingham, with the 
air of one describing a palace. 

“That’s one trouble,” answered Mr. Kel- 
ler. “My family is very small, and I’m 
sure my wife would prefer a cozier type of 
house.” 

“No one could call the Flower Folly 
cozy,” said Miss Dillingham, in her snap- 
piest way. She did not take Mr. Keller into 
the comfortable and attractive living-room, 


A POSSIBLE PURCHASER 307 

but led him through the long halls which 
were often chilly in the mornings, and 
showed him into various rooms which were 
not used by the Dorrances, and which were 
either empty or sparsely furnished. In a 
word, she showed him every part of the 
house that was unattractive, and carefully 
refrained as far as possible, from entering 
the rooms that the Dorrances used most. 

With a shrewd skill she led the visitor 
rapidly past the pleasant spots, and lin- 
gered, shivering, in the unheated chambers 
and the draughty halls. When they re- 
turned to the small reception room into 
which she had at first ushered him, and 
which Dorothy declared to be the ugliest 
room in the whole place, Mr. Keller was 
pretty thoroughly imbued with the idea that 
the house was far from desirable and that 
the erratic but fair-minded lady felt it her 
duty to be perfectly frank in the matter. 

seems a bit lonely,’^ Mr. Keller said, 
‘‘so far away from other houses. I fancy 
the winter winds whistle around rather dole- 
fully, ehr’ 


308 


DORRANCE DOINGS 


only that, Mr. Keller,’’ replied Miss 
Dillingham, and her voice sank to an im- 
pressive whisper, ‘^not only that, but they 
say the house is haunted. There is a mys- 
tery connected with it.” 

‘ ^ Haunted ! ’ ’ exclaimed Mr. Keller. 
^‘Then it would never do for us. Not that 
it would bother me any, but my wife is very 
timid and nervous about such things, and 
she wouldn’t think of coming here for a mo- 
ment, if that’s the case.” 

^‘Oh, I don’t say it is haunted. I only 
say that I have heard a tradition to that 
effect. I never saw any ghost, I never heard 
any mysterious sounds as of wailing and 
groaning. I never heard — ” 

‘‘Enough, enough. Miss Dillingham,” said 
Mr. Keller, rising, “of course there is no 
such thing as a ghost. You and I both know 
that, but the mere fact that there is such a 
tale in connection with this house is quite 
sufficient to put it outside the possibilities 
for us. My wife would be certain to hear 
of it, and she would never have any peace 
thereafter. I thank you for showing me 


A POSSIBLE PURCHASER 309 

throTigli the building, I thank you, too, for 
so frankly pointing out its flaws and disad- 
vantages, and now that you have mentioned 
a ghost in connection with it, my mind is 
made up. I shall go back at once to Mr. 
Brown, and tell him that under no circum- 
stances can I think of buying this unprepos- 
sessing old place.’’ 

Miss Dillingham felt a little -uncomforta- 
ble about the ghost part, which she had in- 
cluded in her enumeration, for she knew 
that the slight reference Ted Pettit had 
made to the ghost had been a mere jest. 

So she said, ^‘Please don’t say anything 
to Mr. Brown about the house being haunted, 
for he would only laugh at such an idea, and 
I assure you it is merely an idea.” 

‘‘Yes, yes, I quite understand that, but to 
such a nervous person as my wife the idea 
is enough. I could never consent to bring 
her here. But since you ask it, I won’t 
mention that side of the subject to Mr. 
Brown. I mil merely tell him, what is quite 
true, that I And the house unattractive and 
ill adapted to my ideas of a home. I thank 


310 


DORRANCE DOINGS 


you madam, for your courtesy, and I wish 
you good-morning. ’ ’ ^ 

Well,’^ said Miss Lucille Dillingham to 
herself, as she closed the door after Mr. Kel- 
ler, ‘MVe saved the house for those foolish 
young people. I don’t know, myself, ex- 
actly why I did it, but I think it’s because 
I can’t help respecting their pluck and cour- 
age, and it did seem too bad for them to be 
turned out of the home they love so well. I 
tried to stick to the truth, but I’m afraid I 
stretched it a little. Anyhow, there is a sug- 
gestion of a ghost story connected with the 
Folly, and though I think that suggestion 
originated in that Pettit boy’s brain, it 
would probably affect that nervous Mrs. 
Keller as disastrously as if it were an old 
and authenticated tradition. And anyway, 
I’m just glad I did exactly wdiat I did! 
And if I had it to do over again, I’d do the 
same thing!” 


CHAPTER XXII 

MR. LLOYD’S NEWS 

M ISS LUCILLE DILLINGHAM 
never told the Dorrances all the de- 
tails of her interview with Mr. Kel- 
ler. After that gentleman’s departure, she 
went out to the candy-kitchen and remarked 
carelessly to Dorothy, don’t believe that 
man will buy this house. If I were you I 
wouldn’t worry any more about it.” 

^^What makes you think he won’t buy it. 
Miss Dillingham?” 

^‘Well, one reason is, he came up to look 
at it just now, and after he looked at it, he 
said it didn’t suit him.” 

^‘Has he been here? Mr. Keller? Who 
showed him the house?” 

did,” said Miss Dillingham, carelessly, 
as if it were a matter of no moment. ‘‘You 
were busy with your work, Mrs. Dorrance 

was in her room, and the children had gone 
311 


312 


DORRANCE DOINGS 


to school. So, as he only wanted to look 
around a little, I acted as guide.’’ 

Dorothy scarcely knew whether to feel in- 
dignant or pleased at this somewhat auda- 
cious action of her guest. 

‘‘Didn’t he like the house?” she asked in 
surprise. 

“No, he says he has a small family, and 
this place is too big. He says it has too 
many rooms, and the halls are draughty, and 
it’s too far from town, and the roads are 
poor.” 

Though Dorothy was amazed at Miss Dill- 
ingham’s news she couldn’t help feeling a 
deep sense of gladness that the house was 
not to be sold after all, but at the same time 
she could scarcely believe in this bit of good 
fortune. 

“Are you sure he isn’t going to take it. 
Miss Dillingham?” 

“ Well, he said he wouldn’t. He said he 
was going right down to tell Mr. Brown that 
he didn’t want the place, and wouldn’t take 
it. Now of course, Mr. Brown may talk him 
into it. I don’t know. But I’m going for 


MR. LLOYD’S NEWS 313 

a walk down toward the village, and on my 
way home I’ll stop in and ask Mr. Brown 
about it.” 

‘"Do,” begged Dorothy, ‘'oh, I should be 
so glad if we could stay here right along.” 

Although affecting to be uninterested in 
the matter. Miss Dillingham was only less 
anxious than Dorothy to learn the result of 
Mr. Keller’s interview with the agent, and 
after walking for a considerable time in 
order to give the men time to settle the mat- 
ter, she went to Mr. Brown’s office. 

She simply stated that she was a guest at 
the Flower Folly, and had called at Miss 
Dorrance’s request to learn whether the 
house was to be sold or not. 

“No,” said Mr. Brown, who seemed 
slightly perplexed. “The customer has un- 
accountably changed his mind at the last 
moment. He had almost concluded to take 
it, but this morning he went up to look at 
it and came back positively decided not to 
purchase. He gave no reasons, except that 
the house did not suit him, and he was sure 
that it would not suit his wife. He did say 


314 


DORRANCE DOINGS 


it was too large, but as I bad told him the 
size of it before, he knew just how large it 
was. He said it was too far from town, but 
the exact distance had also been told him. 
I don’t quite understand it all, but as he was 
most positive in his refusal to buy, it makes 
little difference what his reasons may be. 
I’m not at all sorry, however, for the Dor- 
rances want to stay in it, and as they are 
good tenants, I’m glad to have them there. 
Of course the estate wants to sell the place, 
but that estate is so tangled up that this 
piece of property makes little difference one 
way or another. 

‘‘Then I may tell Miss Dorrance that 
there is no immediate occasion for them to 
think of moving?” 

“Yes, you may tell her so, that is, so far 
as Mr. Keller is concerned. Of course a 
purchaser for the house may arrive any day. 
But it is not a very salable place, and I don’t 
expect a buyer very soon.” 

Delighted at having obtained definite in- 
formation, Miss Dillingham started back to 
the Folly. 


MR. LLOYD’S NEWS 


315 


^‘You needn’t engage rooms at the Shef- 
field Inn just yet,” she announced to Doro- 
thy, on her return. ‘‘The Keller gentleman 
doesn’t seem to want the Flower Polly for 
his home, and he has departed from Shef- 
field, with no intention of returning.” 

“My! but I’m glad,” cried Dorothy, “and 
I thank you. Miss Lucille, for bringing me 
such good news.” 

Miss Dillingham responded only by a grim 
sniff which was intended to imply that she 
had no interest in the matter one way or an- 
other. And Dorothy never dreamed that 
but for the kind heart underlying her guest’s 
brusque demeanor they might not be so se- 
curely in possession of their much loved 
home. 

The twins and Fairy came home from 
school in great glee. They had stopped at 
Mr. Brown’s, and learned the good news. 

“Isn’t it great!” cried Leicester, flinging 
his cap up to the ceiling. “I tell you, a 
scare like that makes us appreciate our dear 
old Folly more than ever. By way of cele- 
bration we will just have a little concert 


316 


DOKRANCE DOINGS 


around Grandma Dorrance.’’ And Miss 
Dillingham, coming along just then, was in 
time to see those four crazy children, as she 
called them, join hands and dance around 
Grandma Dorrance’s chair singing one of 
their favorite songs. 

This chorus, of which they had composed 
both words and music, was called ^‘The 
Doodles.’’ 

Dorothy had made up most of the words, 
and Lilian most of the music, but the others 
had helped some, and they now sang it with 
much enjoyment and more noise. The 
words were as follows: 

THE DOODLES. 

On the banks of Silver Elver, 

Where the golden lilies blow, 

Waiting for the caravans, 

Stood the Doodles in a row. 

All a-qnake and all a-quiver, 

All a-shake and all a-shiver. 

Fluttering funny little fans, 

Waiting for the caravans. 

Fluttering funny little fans. 


MR. LLOYD’S NEWS 


317 


Stood the Doodles in a row, 

Stood the Doodles in a row. 

When the caravans came nearer, 

All the Doodles murmured, ‘^Oh, 

We would really like to stay. 

But of course we have to go. 

Though our home and friends seem dearer 

Y^et we see our duty clearer. 

And we’d really like to stay 
Waiting for another day; 

Yes, of course we’d like to stay, 

But we really have to go. 

Yes, we really have to go. 

The Dorrances were especially devoted to 
nonsense rhymes, and dearly loved to make 
them up. ^‘The Doodles’’ they considered 
one of their masterpieces, and as they fin- 
ished singing it, they turned to Miss Lucille, 
fully expecting words of appreciation, if not 
of compliment. 

But that somewhat disappointing lady 
only remarked, You children are the great- 
est geese I ever saw ! ’ ’ Which opinion how- 


318 


DORRANCE DOINGS 


ever, in no wise damped their enthusiasm or 
ruffled their spirits. 

Miss Dillingham’s stay was nearly over. 
She had announced that she would go away 
the latter part of the week. Although the 
children were not inconsolable at the 
thought of her leaving them, yet they had 
grown to like her much better than they did 
at first, and had learned to make allowance 
for her queernesses. 

Two days before her departure, a hack 
from the station drove up to the Flower 
Folly. 

To the Dorrances’ surprise it brought Mr. 
Lloyd, and though glad to see him, they 
couldn’t help wondering what was up now. 

Mr. Lloyd was a brisk and energetic man 
of business, and he asked the Dorrances to 
grant him a family conference at once as he 
had a matter of importance to discuss. 

The children were pleased with the pros- 
pect of a new excitement, but a little fearful 
lest it might be of an unpleasant nature as 
so many of their excitements had been lately. 

Dorothy explained to Miss Dillingham 


MR. LLOYD’S NEWS 


319 


that the family wished to have a talk on 
business matters, and Miss Dillingham ac- 
cepted the hint graciously enough, and re- 
tired at once to her own room. 

Then Grandma Dorrance and the four 
children settled themselves to hear what Mr. 
Lloyd had to say. 

The great news proved to be nothing less 
than the announcement of an opportunity 
to sell their hotel property at Lake Ponet- 
cong. 

^^Sell the Dorrance Domain!’’ cried Lei- 
cester. ^‘Whew! that’s a big proposition! 
Does somebody really want it?” 

^ ‘ Yes, ” said Mr. Lloyd. ‘ ‘ Some men have 
been up to look at it. They have appraised 
it carefully, they have made themselves fa- 
miliar with its past history, and have also 
taken into consideration the fact that you 
kept boarders there last summer. They 
have concluded that if they form a company, 
and buy the place, they could run it profit- 
ably as a summer hotel. At any rate, they 
are willing to purchase, if you can meet their 
terms. I advise you to accept their offer, 


320 


DORRANCE DOINGS 


for the hotel is really an elephant on your 
hands, and while you did wonderfully well 
with it last summer in an amateur sort of 
way, I scarcely think you would care to re- 
peat that experiment/’ 

^‘What is the price offered?” asked Lei- 
cester. 

‘‘We have had considerable discussion of 
the matter,” replied Mr. Lloyd, “and I 
think if the place is sold to them, it must be 
for a consideration of about fifty thousand 
dollars.” 

‘ ‘ Fifty thousand dollars ! ’ ’ exclaimed 
Dorothy, her eyes dancing, “I say yes! 
What do you say, Leicester?” 

“I say yes! what do you say, Lilian?” 

“I say yes! what do you say. Fairy?” 

Fairy wagged her golden head gravely, 
and her big white bow bobbed slowly back 
and forth, as she said thoughtfully, “I say 
yes! What do you say. Grandma?” 

They all laughed at Fairy’s solemn man- 
ner, as she deferred to Grandma’s opinion. 

“I don’t know, my dears,” answered Mrs. 
Dorrance. “If you children want to sell 


MR. LLOYD’S NEWS 


321 


the place, I’m sure I am willing, and the 
price and all such considerations I will leave 
entirely to Mr. Lloyd’s judgment and ex- 
perience, for I know little about such 
things.” 

‘‘Perhaps you young people would feel 
sorry to part with the property,” suggested 
Mr. Lloyd. “You seemed very fond of it, 
last summer.” 

“We liked it,” said Dorothy, who was 
carefully, though rapidly, thinking matters 
out. “But I think we liked it because it 
was so big and funny, and it was a novel ex- 
periment; but I, for one, don’t care to go 
back there this summer. I like the Flower 
Folly better. It’s plenty big enough for us, 
and yet it isn’t immense, like the Domain. 
The only trouble is, it may be sold over our 
heads any minute.” 

“I’ll tell you what!” cried Leicester. 
“Let’s sell the Domain, and buy the Flower 
Folly ourselves. The Pettits think we could 
get it for about ten or twelve thousand dol- 
lars, and there ’d be a lot left then, out of 
fifty thousand.” 


322 


DORRANCE DOINGS 


‘ ‘ Fine ! ’ ’ cried Dorothy. ^ ‘ That ’s just the 
thing! I say do that, too. What do you 
all say?’’ 

Yes, yes,” cried the children in concert.” 

‘^It seems to me,” said Grandma Dor- 
rance, “that that is indeed a good idea. We 
can then feel that we have a permanent 
home, and also we can take a few thousands 
of the purchase money of the Domain to 
make some necessary repairs and improve- 
ments on this house.” 

“Have a telephone!” screamed Fairy. 
“Have a telephone! Will you Dorothy? 
Will you have a telephone? Dorothy, will 
you?” 

“Yes, Baby, yes, ’ ’ said Leicester. “ We ’ll 
have two of them, if you will only keep still 
a moment, and we’ll have the house painted 
properly, and we’ll have a new furnace, and, 
— and quite some few things. Oh I say, it 
will be right down splendid!” 

“Lovely!” cried Lilian, “and perhaps we 
can get a new piano, and have the lawn fixed 
up some.” 

“And there’s one thing sure!” exclaimed 


MR. LOYD’S NEWS 


323 


Leicester, ^‘Dot sha’n’t work herself to 
death over those old candies! I’ll be jolly 
glad of that.” 

Dorothy’s face beamed. ‘‘I shall be glad 
not to have to make them,” she said, ‘^but 
it does seem a pity to stop such a thriving 
business, and, too, it will throw poor Jenny 
out of employment. She’ll be broken 
hearted.” 

We ’ll fix that part of it up somehow,” 
declared Leicester, ^^but you^ve got to stop 
it.” 

Dorothy gave a little sigh of relief. She 
was truly glad that the necessity for work- 
ing so hard over the candies seemed to be 
passing away. 

^^Is it sure that those men will buy the 
Domain?” she asked of Mr. Lloyd. 

^ Wes,” he replied, ^4f Mrs. Dorrance will 
agree to sell her property at that price. I 
strongly advise it, for I think it highly prob- 
able that there will not be another such op- 
portunity very soon. I have brought the 
necessary papers with me, and if you are 
quite sure, Mrs. Dorrance, that it is in ac- 


324 


DORRANCE DOINGS 


cordance with your wishes, I shall be glad 
to have you sign them during my stay in 
Sheffield. I expect to remain here a day or 
two at the inn, and if you also wish to buy 
this property you are now occupying, I will 
look into that matter too.’’ 

The hospitality of the Dorrances would 
not permit Mr. Lloyd to go to the village 
inn, and so during his stay in Sheffield he 
was a guest at the Flower Folly. 

The next day brought no change of mind 
to any of the family, and delighted at their 
great good fortune, they willingly agreed 
to sell the Domain and buy the Folly. 


CHAPTER XXIII 

THE PANEL IN THE WALL 

A nd so it came about, that the Dorrance 
Domain passed into other hands, and 
the Flower Folly became the prop- 
erty of Mrs. Dorrance. Mr. Lloyd had ad- 
vised the expenditure of a certain sum in 
such repairs and improvements as they de- 
sired, and the children were in high glee at 
the thought of beautifying their home with 
fresh paper and paint. 

The outside of the house was painted 
white, and though it required several coats 
to bring it to proper condition, when finished 
it was a glistening pile, so beautiful to look 
upon, that the children declared their in- 
tention of living out of doors in order to see 
it better. 

When Dorothy decided to discontinue the 
manufacture of the Flower Candies, it oc- 
curred to Miss Dillingham that this was her 
325 


326 


DORRANCE DOINGS 


chance. So she offered to buy out the busi- 
ness, and continuing it herself, retain the 
same name, boxes and general market. 

After thinking this matter over, Dorothy 
concluded that if Mr. Mills and her other 
patrons agreed to this arrangement, she was 
perfectly willing. 

So Miss Dillingham rented some rooms 
and a house in the village, and moved to 
them all of Dorothy’s paraphernalia, boxes, 
utensils and such materials as she had on 
hand at the time. Jenny Starr was to work 
with her, and Dorothy hoped the Flower 
Candies would continue to be a success. 
However, if Miss Dillingham should not 
succeed, it would merely mean that the 
Flower Candies would go out of existence, 
and so far as Dorothy was concerned they 
had already done that. 

Miss Dillingham was greatly delighted 
over the whole arrangement, for she desired 
a change from her peripatetic life, she liked 
Sheffield, and she was glad to have a new 
interest, at least for a time. 

Dorothy watched her boxes and moulds 


THE PANEL IN THE WALL 327 

being carried away with feelings of thank- 
fulness. 

‘^It was a good business,” she told the 
others, ‘^and it certainly came along just in 
the nick of time. Its profits paid all those 
big bills that accumulated during Grand- 
ma’s sickness, and I don’t know how we 
could have pulled through without it.” 

‘^Now that we have sold the Domain, we 
could have paid them easily enough,” said 
Fairy. 

^^Yes,” answered Leicester, ^‘but we little 
thought we’d have a chance to sell the Do- 
main, and the bills had to be paid whether 
we did or not.” 

^‘We can go up to the Domain this Sum- 
mer,” suggested Dorothy, ^^for a few weeks 
as boarders, if we want to. Wouldn’t it be 
funny to be there, and not be at the head of 
it? Never to go into the kitchen, and to 
register ourselves in the big book instead 
of registering others.” 

^^It would be jolly good fun,” said Lei- 
cester, ^‘and I vote we spend the month of 
August up there.” 


328 


DORRANCE DOINGS 


Won’t Mrs. Hickox be surprised to see 
us,” exulted Fairy. must begin now to 
cut out some newspaper clippings to take 
to ber. She is so fond of newspaper clip- 
pings. ’ ’ 

The Pettit boys and Peggy Pike and all 
the other young friends of the Dorrances, 
were, of course, delighted that they had con- 
cluded to remain in the Flower Folly. 

One afternoon Ted and Peggy had accom- 
panied the twins home from school, as they 
often did, and the whole crowd were gath- 
ered in the living-room at the Polly. 

‘^We’re going to repaper this room,” 
Dorothy was saying, ‘‘and I don’t know 
whether to do it in green or in dark red. 
What do you think Peggy?” 

“You can’t repaper a room,” corrected 
Ted, “that has never been papered. This 
room is painted, and has always been paint- 
ed, I judge from its appearance. Why 
don’t you paint it again, and restore the 
color of the old panels just as they were be- 
fore?” 

“I think that would be better,” said 


THE PANEL IN THE WALL 329 

Dorothy. don’t believe paper would 
stick to the paint very well, anyway.” 

4 i There are a lot of cracks that will have 
to be puttied up before it’s painted, then,” 
remarked Leicester, gazing at the opposite 
wall. ^^Look at that big one that curves 
around just inside the moulding over there. 
I say, people, that’s a mighty funny crack, 
I think. I never noticed it before, but see, 
it curves around in a perfect arch.” 

‘‘So it does,” exclaimed Dorothy. “I 
never noticed it before, either. And I don’t 
believe it’s been there very long. The wall 
must have cracked during this last cold 
weather.” 

“That isn’t a cold weather crack,” said 
Ted. “It’s too true a shape for that. 
Don’t you see it follows the line of the 
moulding of the arch above it. It’s simply 
the outline of the panel.” 

“Mighty queer way to make a panel,” 
mused Leicester. “If that panel was made 
separately and set in there, there must be 
some reason for it. It must be a movable 
panel, and, gracious Jinnninety! I do be- 


330 


DORRANCE DOINGS 


lieve, Dorothy, — I certainly do ! I cer-tain- 

ly dor 

Leicester was wildly excited, and went 
dancing around the room like a mad person, 
gesticulating vigorously with his hands and 
feet. 

‘‘I do, too!” cried Lilian, also waving her 
hands as an emphasis to her words. do 
too. Less! Oh, I surely do.'” 

^‘What is it all about?” asked Peggy, 
laughing. ‘‘Of course I know you’re both 
crazy, but what’s your special craze this 
time ? and what do you mean by acting like 
jumping-jacks ?” 

“ This demonstration, my dear Miss Pike, 
is what is known as a series of Delsarte ges- 
tures, expressing joy, glee, surprise, excite- 
ment and general hullabaloo,” explained 
Leicester, gaily. 

“Mine,” said Lilian, still making absurd 
motions, “express conviction, curiosity, in- 
quisitiveness, impatience and immediate in- 
vestigation!” 

“Come on, then,” called Leicester, and 
with a bound across the room, he hit the 


THE PANEL IN THE WALL 331 

panel they had been talking about, a re- 
sounding whack with his fist. 

cried Dorothy, as a sudden light 
broke in upon her. ^^Noiv I know what you 
mean! But it isn’t true! It can't be 
true!” 

you don’t tell me what it’s all about,” 
threatened Fairy, who had climbed up in a 
chair, and then onto a table, shall begin 
to cry harder than I ever cried before in all 
my life!” 

‘^You couldn’t do it. Fairy,” Leicester de- 
clared. have heard you put up some cry- 
ing spells, that I’m perfectly sure even you 
can never beat. But as I don’t want you 
even to attempt it, I ’ll tell you what I think. 
I think that panel is a kind of a secret door 
or something like that, and that the old 
Flower man’s statue is tucked away behind 
it.” 

^‘Nonsense!” said Ted Pettit. ^^I 
thought you had some really great idea. 
This room has a dozen or more panels. Do 
you think you can pick out a statue from be- 
hind each one?” 


332 


DORRANCE DOINGS 


Never mind your own opinions on the 
subject, Ted,” rejoined Leicester, ‘‘but come 
here and help me.” 

Ted came, and the two boys knocked and 
tapped on the panel, but could not convince 
themselves or the others that the sounds 
were such as to indicate a hollow space be- 
hind. 

They ran their fingers up and down the 
small straight crack which curved at the top 
exactly as if it were a door set into the 
arched space. But there was no lock, knob, 
hinge or anything to declare the actual 
presence of a door. The boys poked and 
pried into the crack, but all to no avail. 

“But it must mean something,” urged 
Dorothy, scrutinizing the aperture, “for 
no other panel in the room has that crack 
around it. They’re all solidly joined to the 
moulding without space for a pin to get in 
between.” 

“That’s so. Dot.” Leicester was racing 
around the room, to examine the others. “I 
tell you there’s some reason for that adjust- 
able panel, and even though it may not be a 


THE PANEL IN THE WALL 


333 


door, it’s made so that it can be moved away 
or taken out when necessary.” 

Lilian sat thinking. Can’t you find out, 
Less, by measuring behind it, or something 
like that?” 

‘^Well you have got a level head!” said 
Ted Pettit, gazing at her admiringly. ‘‘We 
fellows ought to have thought of that before. 
Get a yard-stick. Less, or a tape-measure, or 
something.” 

Leicester got a yard-stick and a tape- 
measure both, and going outside into the 
hall, round through the other rooms, and 
back again, they measured and figured and 
calculated, but could not arrive at any defi- 
nite conclusion. 

“The partition wall doesn’t seem any 
thicker there than anywhere else,” said Lei- 
cester, in despair, “but the walls in this 
house are so thick anyway that there’s room 
for statues all through them.” 

“Perhaps it’s a little statue,” suggested 
Lilian, “not life-size, you know.” 

“That, sister, is called a statuette, and 
I’d be perfectly satisfied to find that kind. 


334 


DORRANCE DOINGS 


but find something I will!^^ and Leicester 
stamped his foot in a frenzy of baffled de- 
termination. 

‘‘Well/’ said Dorothy, “if you really 
think there’s anything behind that queer 
panel, I say, let’s break it in. The room’s 
going to be done over anyhow, and that place 
can be easily patched up again at a very 
small cost.” 

“I’d like to take a pick and go right at 
it,” declared Leicester, “but it will make an 
awful mess. Dot, and probably amount to 
nothing after all.” 

“Never mind the mess,” said Dorothy. 
“Let’s do it.” 

“All right,” and after a hurried trip down 
cellar, Leicester returned with a stout pick, 
a large shovel, the furnace poker and a 
hatchet. 

“These are all the implements of destruc- 
tion I could find,” he said. “Take your 
choice, Ted.” Ted chose the hatchet, Lei- 
cester took the pick, and they prepared to 
attack the panel. 

“It’s lucky this is our own house,” said 


THE PANEL IN THE WALL 335 

Leicester, ^^or we couldn’t bang it to pieces 
like this. Now you girls count three.” 

The girls stood in an admiring group be- 
hind the excited and somewhat red-faced 
men of action, and Dorothy led off, as they 
counted, ^^one, two, tlireeV^ 

At the last word the boys attacked the wall 
with a gusto. 

^ ‘ Go easy. Less, ’ ’ warned Ted. ^ ‘ The wall 
may be thinner than you think.” 

The first few blows amounted to nothing, 
but by hacking away at it, the boys finally 
demolished a portion of the panel, making 
^ hole right through it. 

They peered in, but though they could see 
nothing in the darkness they realized that 
there certainly was a space there. 

Don’t put your hand in. Less,” called 
Lilian, as her brother started to do so. 

^^Why not. Twin?” 

^^Oh, I’m afraid something will happen. 
There may be a great dragon that’s been 
chained up in there for years, and he’ll bite 
your hand off!” 

‘Alore likely a mouse,” said Dorothy, but 


336 


DORRANCE DOINGS 


at tMs suggestion, Peggy Pike set up a 
scream, and Dorothy dropped the subject. 

don’t think there’s any danger,” re- 
turned Leicester, and thrusting his hand 
through the hole he drew it back again, 
bringing with him what seemed to be some 
bits of old rags. 

^‘It is, it is!^’ he shouted. ‘^This is the 
old cloth or stuff that’s wrapped around that 
statue! See, it’s all yellow with age, and 
dropping to pieces.” 

The others gazed with a sort of awe on the 
brownish rags in Leicester’s hand, and Ted 
said, ‘^It may be, old boy, but still old rags 
are sometimes stuffed in a wall without any 
statues in them.” 

‘‘I don’t know why they’d stuff old rags 
in a wall,” declared Lilian, ^^but you boys 
had better be careful. If you keep on 
smashing, hit or miss, like that, you’re likely 
to break the statue’s head off, I think.” 

‘^That’s so,” agreed Leicester, ‘‘and any- 
way, I believe there’s some kind of a secret 
spring or something, that would let this 
panel come out whole. If our friend Flower 


THE PANEL IN THE WALL 337 

had meant for us to break it down with pick- 
axes, he wouldn’t have had it made different 
from the others.” 

^‘That’s so,” cried Ted, “let’s take turns. 
Less, feeling around inside, to see if we can 
find a spring or a latch. I’ll take my 
chances on being bitten by a dragon, or any 
other fearful beast.” 

So saying, Ted poked his long arm 
through, and felt carefully as far as he could 
reach. He brought out a handful of dust 
and dirt, but found no spring. 

“Of course,” said Lilian, “you can’t find 
the spring that way ! If there is one, it must 
be so you can get at it from this side. 
What’s the sense of a spring, if you have to 
smash through the wall to reach it!” 

All agreed that this was logic, and all be- 
gan poking and punching the wall on either 
side of the panel and even the moulding it- 
self. 

“Nothing doing,” announced Leicester 
finally. “But the spring we’re hunting, 
may be at the top of the door. Up you go. 
Fairy.” 


338 


DORRANCE DOINGS 


Fairy needed no second invitation to 
scramble up to her brother’s shoulders. 
Leicester was a strong, sturdy boy, and 
Fairy such an agile sprite, that without the 
least difficulty she allowed herself to be 
raised to his shoulders, and stood firmly 
poised, while Leicester held her fast by the 
feet. 

^^‘Feel all around at the top of the panel 
moulding,” he said. ^^Try behind that 
queer little ornament up there.” 

/^Ugh!” ejaculated Fairy, ^4t’s awful 
dirty and dusty up here.” Fairy’s dainti- 
.ness of habit was of the spick-and-span va- 
riety, and she hated a bit of dirt or dust on 
her fingers or garments. 

^‘Never mind. Fairy,” called Dorothy, 
knowing her sister’s distaste for this kind 
of work. ‘‘Now that you’re up there, do it 
thoroughly. Who knows? — perhaps you’ll 
be the one to find the spring.” 

This thought encouraged Fairy, and her 
little hands fiew around the dusty old cor- 
nice, until suddenly she cried out, “Here is 
something! A sort of a funny little knob.” 


THE PANEL IN THE WALL 


339 


Press it,” cried Leicester. 

‘^It won’t press,” answered Fairy. 

Shove it one way or the other,” sug- 
gested Ted. 

^‘It won’t shove,” reported Fairy, after 
making an effort that required all her 
strength. 

‘‘It must mean something/^ said Ted. 
“What kind of a knob is it. Fairy'?” 

“It looks like brass, old dirty brass, but 
it won’t go up or down or turn around. I 
can’t move it at all.” 

“All right. Baby,” said Leicester, “you’ve 
done your part. Come on down.” 


CHAPTER XXIV 


THE STATUE 

S ETTING Fairy gently on the floor, Lei- 
cester gave her a brotherly pat on the 
shoulder. ‘‘Good girl,’’ he said, 
“you’ve probably found the secret. Now 
it’s up to us boys, to work it out. Come on 
Ted.” 

Down cellar went both boys, and quickly 
returned with a long ladder. This they put 
against the panel. 

“Go on up, Ted,” invited Leicester. 

“No, sir, this is your show. It ’s your house, 
and your statue. Go on up, yourself.” 

“Yes, go, Leicester,” urged Peggy, “it’s 
only fair for you to make your own dis- 
covery.” 

“If there’s any discovery to be made,” 
said Leicester, as he started up the ladder. 

Well, there was a discovery to be made, 
for after he had pushed and pulled and 
340 


THE STATUE 


341 


twisted and turned the little brass knob, it 
finally yielded, and the top of the panel 
moved slightly out from its place. 

‘ ^ How is it fastened, ’ ’ called Ted. ' ‘ Look 
out. Less, it will knock your ladder down!’’ 

But Leicester was peering down inside the 
top of the panel. 

'H’ve got it,” he cried. ‘Ht’s all right! 
Hold the ladder firmly for me.” 

Grasping a length of rope, he let it slide 
through his hands as he slowly descended 
the ladder. He reached the fioor still hold- 
ing the rope, and said excitedly. ^^Push 
away the ladder, will you, Ted? Careful 
now ! Out of the way, girls ! ’ ’ 

Then, slowly slacking the rope which went 
through a pulley at the top of the arch, Lei- 
cester let the panel gently down. The top 
fell outward into the room, and when it was 
entirely down the long panel with the hole 
in it lay right across the floor. 

Ted gazed at it with admiration. ‘‘What 
an ingenius contraption,” he cried. “So 
simple, and yet so difficult to discover!” 

It was a simple affair. Merely a false 


342 


DORRANCE DOINGS 


panel which fitted exactly into its opening, 
and was fastened only at the top. So tight- 
ly had it fitted, that except for the tiny crack 
on one side noticed by Leicester, the secret 
might never have been found out at all. 

^‘Now,’’ he cried, as he pointed to the re- 
cess in the wall, which the panel had con- 
cealed. that the statue, or isn^t it?’’ 

It unmistakably was. A tall shape could 
be seen, outlined beneath a mass of brown 
and crumbling rags. 

The children gazed in awed silence. For 
once, their excitement was too great for 
their ordinary noisy demonstrations. 

‘^Before we touch it,” said Dorothy, soft- 
ly, let’s call Grandma Dorrance.” 

Leicester had already recovered his usual 
spirits. 

‘‘Hi !” he cried, as he dashed into the hall. 
“Hi! Grandma. Come to the unveiling of 
the statue. Come quick!” 

Having found the old lady, the excited 
boy led her through the hall to the demol- 
ished room. 

The girls had arranged an arm-chair fac- 


THE STATUE 


343 


ing the scene of interest, and Grandma Dor- 
rance was seated in it with much ceremony. 

^^Now,” declaimed Leciester, in his bom- 
bastic way, ‘^we are gathered together, my 
friends, to witness the unveiling of a great 
work of art. This noble statue, — subject 
unknown, — is the work of the noted Italian 
sculptor, — name unknown, — and is without 
doubt, his masterpiece. If the ladies of 
this congregation will range themselves on 
either side of the Dowager Duchess of Dor- 
rance, we two strong and sturdy henchmen 
will remove the veil and gladden your eyes 
with a sight of this immortal work of art.’’ 

The four girls, grouped themselves around 
Grandma Dorrance, and awaited develop- 
ments. Fairy’s big blue eyes were wide 
with wonder, and the others were scarcely 
less excited. 

The recess which contained the statue was 
merely a niche in the wall, which was fin- 
ished and even decorated as a part of the 
room. It was evidently intended to hold the 
statue, and the false panel in front of it had 
doubtless been merely temporary, and was 


344 


DORRANCE DOINGS 


to be taken away when the house was fur- 
nished and occupied. The removal of the 
panel left the statue in its proper and per- 
manent place, and the panel itself was, of 
course, a precautionary measure of protec- 
tion during the decoration and finishing of 
the house. 

Leicester and Ted stood on either side of 
the niche, and as the former shouted, ‘^Let 
her go !’’ they began to snatch the old brown 
cloth off by handfuls. 

As they did so, a pure white marble statue 
was revealed. 

It was a statue of a woman, life size, and 
of classic type. It stood on a pedestal, and 
to reach the head, the boys had to climb into 
chairs. 

‘‘It’s the real thing, sure enough!” cried 
Ted, as at last the statue was entirely di- 
vested of its ragged covering, and stood in 
all its beauty, against a dark maroon-colored 
background. 

“Who is it a statue of?” asked Fairy. 
Leicester looked at it critically. “That,” 
he said, “is a question each must answer for 


THE STATUE 


345 


himself. I have no authoritative informa- 
tion on the subject. But at a rough guess, 
I should say Clytie.” 

‘‘Not Clytie,” declared Peggy Pike, “I 
say Andromeda!’’ 

“There you are,” said Leicester, “but I 
assure you, this is a most accommodating 
statue, and she doesn’t mind in the least 
what you call her. Grandma, what’s your 
choice?” 

“I should say Niobe,” answered the old 
lady, falling into their game as she always 
did. 

“Why, Niobe was always weeping,” sug- 
gested Lilian. “This lady isn’t weeping. 
Grandma.” 

“No,” said Mrs. Dorrance, placidly, “I 
think it is a statue of Niobe before she burst 
into tears.” 

“Well I don’t care who she is, it’s the 
statue, and tve found it, and we claim the 
reward, and the Flower estate will please 
call, examine and then settle up as soon as 
possible! We’ll call it Niobe for the pres- 
ent, as that name seems to suit Grandma 


346 


DORRANCE DOINGS 


best, and I now propose three cheers for 
Miss Niobe Flower!” 

The children had cheered before on many 
occasions, but never did more ear-splitting 
yells ring out from their young throats than 
those in honor of the marble lady. 

‘M’m not sure,” said Ted, ‘^but that you 
own Miss Mobe yourselves. You bought 
the Flower Folly, and of course, that in- 
cluded its contents.” 

don’t know about that,” answered Lei- 
cester, thoughtfully. ‘‘You know there was 
a reward offered for the statue, wherever it 
might be found, and to tell you the truth, 
I’d a heap rather have the five thousand dol- 
lars reward than to keep this pale-faced 
lady as our own. Truth to tell, I don’t think 
she harmonizes with the rest of our bric-a- 
brac.” 

“Do you suppose it’s worth more than 
five thousand dollars,” said Dorothy, in an 
awe-struck voice. 

“I don’t know. Dot,” returned Leicester. 
“I haven’t looked up the latest market quo- 
tations on marble, per pound, but I have no 


THE STATUE 


347 


doubt that if this is really a piece of Italian 
sculpture brought here so long ago, and con- 
cealed so carefully by its owner, — IVe no 
doubt that it’s a very valuable piece of prop- 
erty.” 

And it turned out that it was so, indeed. 
The statue was among the great ones of the 
earth, and was joyfully welcomed by the 
heirs of the Flower estate. The reward of 
five thousand dollars was willingly paid, and 
the other Dorrances agreed that the sum 
should be Leicester’s very own to do with 
as he chose. 

The boy refused to accept this, for he said 
that the rest of the family did quite as much 
toward the discovery as he. 

^^But,” he said, do want to realize one 
ambition, which is, to buy an automobile and 
learn to run it myself.” 

The other children were fully in sympathy 
with this, but Grandma Dorrance was too 
fearful for the safety of her young people, 
to give her consent. 

However, after much argument and coax- 
ing, she agreed to sanction the plan if Lei- 


348 


DORRANCE DOINGS 


cester would promise to have an experienced 
chauffeur to teach him how to run the ma- 
chine, and would further agree never to 
undertake to manage it alone until the in- 
structor was perfectly confident of his abil- 
ity to do so. 

To all this Leicester gave a ready assent, 
and finally the great day dawned, when the 
four Dorrances went to the city to huy their 
automobile. 

Mr. Lloyd had been consulted on the sub- 
ject, as had also Mr. and Mrs. Faulkner, and 
the three grown people went with the Dor- 
rances to make the important purchase. 

Indeed the children had little voice in the 
matter, but as their Imowledge of the subject 
was extremely slight they were only too glad 
to agree with the opinions of Mr. Lloyd and 
Mr. Faulkner. 

Finally a magnificent motor-car was pur- 
chased, and Leicester could scarcely believe 
that in time he should be able to drive the 
beautiful machine himself. 

A careful and experienced man was en- 
gaged, who was to stay at the Folly for a 


THE STATUE 


349 


month, or more if necessary, and instruct 
Leicester in all the ways and wiles of his 
new car. The boy had a decided talent for 
engineering in general, and was by no 
means entirely ignorant on the subject. 

His education progressed rapidly, and one 
sunny day in April he took the family out 
for a ride and drove his car himself. 

Lilian sat beside him in front, while 
Grandma was snugly tucked in the tonneau 
between Dorothy and Fairy. 

It seemed to the Dorrances that they had 
at last reached the height of out-of-door hap- 
piness. As they whizzed through the coun- 
try, the fresh spring air blowing in their 
faces, and Leicester, proud and confident, 
carefully managing the big machine, they 
declared to each other that they believed 
they were the happiest family in the world. 

Grandma Dorrance did not say much, for 
the swift motion of the car almost took her 
breath away, but she looked at her four 
grandchildren gathered round her, and felt 
with pride and joy that they were a happy 
crowd of young people, and that their happi- 


350 


DORRANCE DOINGS 


ness was mostly brought about by their own 
blithe spirits and the resourceful capabili- 
ties within themselves. 

^‘What shall we name this automobile?’’ 
asked Lilian as they sped along the miles. 

^‘I’ve been thinking about that,” said Lei- 
cester, ^‘and I don’t know. What do you 
think would be a good name?” 

think,” called out Dorothy from the 
back seat, ‘Hhat you’d better call it the 
Boomerang. Then it will always be sure to 
come back!” 

‘‘Good!” cried Leicester, “the greatest 
virtue a motor-car can have, is always to 
come back. So the Boomerang it is ! ” 

“Suppose we let it live up to its name,” 
suggested Grandma, “and let it go back now. 
It has been a lovely ride, but you know I am 
not really used to it yet and I want to get 
home by sun-down.” 

So Leicester deftly turned the machine 
around, and they started back to the Folly. 

“We ought to be a happy crowd,” said 
Dorothy, as she walked up the steps, “with 
that perfectly lovely Boomerang to go out 


THE STATUE 


351 


riding in, and our dear old Flower Polly to 
come back to.’’ 

^^Yes, siree!” cried Leicester, as, the oth- 
ers having alighted, he started off to put the 
Boomerang away. ‘‘Hooray for the happy 
Dorrances!” 

And the others as they entered their home, 
shouted gaily, “Hooray!” 


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